Behind Those Eyes
by cackles the witch
Summary: Sirius Black has a daughter he never knew. Find out what happens when Remus Lupin meets her & how the truth changes lives. RL,OC, SB & others eventually. Rated M for safety. Not slash.
1. Chapter 1:Freedom

Hi! This is my first fic and though it begins with Sirius at the end of PoA, it will have extensive flashbacks featuring my favourite werewolf--and hopefully yours--Remus Lupin (and my original OC), but will eventually come back to my favourite puppy, Sirius Black.

Unfortunately, everything else belongs to JK Rowling.

* * *

**Behind Those Eyes**

**Chapter 1:** Freedom

_He had to run. Fast. But to where?_

Sirius Black circled London overhead on the back of Buckbeak the hippogriff, his fellow fugitive and new friend. He'd been in the air for what seemed like hours, flying away from Hogwarts and from a fate worth than death.

After 12 years in Azkabahn, he was finally free but the elation he'd felt on his first flight from his tower-prison was gone now, replaced with uncertainty. He looked down at the tiny cityscape below, streetlamps glowing, creating a familiar pattern. It reminded him instantly of flying over London as a young man on his motorbike. He loved that thing.

Wondering what happened to it, another memory came to him.

Sirius and James, sitting in the headmaster's office, 1976. Dumbledore, perched on the edge of his desk, a smile playing across his lips as he tried to lecture them sternly for yet another prank.

Sirius remembered it well. It was legendary. A giant fur ball for McGonagall, collected for months from Mrs. Norris and Gryffindor girls' cats, and placed loving and with great care in her private quarters by the fireplace. Dumbledore had wanted to know how they did it and, of course, they never told.

Watching the Marauder's Map one night, James and Sirius happened to see Professor McGonagall's tiny black dot move from one end of the castle to another in mere seconds. Curious and unrelenting, they figured out the shortcuts the staff used within the floo network of the castle.

Ironically, it was how he'd escaped so quickly months before, when he attacked Peter the rat (and, unfortunately, Harry's friend) that night in the castle.

But it wasn't the prank that interested him now. It was the photograph perched on Dumbledore's desk, the one with the wizard, clad in a loud pair of muggle swim trunks, waving to the camera on a beach. He looked ridiculous, and why Dumbledore had it out, he couldn't figure. In all the times he'd visited the headmaster's office, he'd never seen it before.

The headmaster, having given up on trying to learn their secrets, noticed Sirius staring at the picture. So, instead of more lectures, or another round of detentions, which the three of them knew would be useless, Dumbledore gave the boys a lesson in hiding out.

He told them about a place, a safe haven of sorts, for witches and wizards, known as _Isla de los Muertos_, somewhere in the southern hemisphere. Even though it was unplottable, the name was meant to keep muggles away and, for the most part, it worked. The only muggles were the locals, who, having negotiated a mutually beneficial deal with the founding wizards centuries ago, thrived as a community. They had no need for the outside world, though they were allowed to come and go as they pleased, as long as they allowed the magical world access to their island and kept their secret. The island, meant as a refuge, had safeguards to keep dark magic at bay. In fact, magical powers were useless on the island, the only drawback to an otherwise perfect hideaway.

Sirius grinned to himself, surprised that memory had survived, then whispered to Buckbeak, and with a swift turn southwest, the pair were off to paradise.

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Three days later, while Sirius arrived to safety, his friend, Remus Lupin sat in a tiny cottage, his childhood home, wondering how he would break the news.

He barely believed it himself, but it was true. Sirius Black was an innocent man.

The boy he grew up with, the man whom he missed, James' best mate, Harry's godfather – Sirius Black – was not a traitor. Not a killer. Not a monster.

The joy and sadness of the situation hit him as he pondered what it meant. Not just to him -- for it changed everything and made him remember things he'd fought to forget years ago -- but what it meant to her; the one person, besides Harry, who this would matter more than anyone.

Sirius Black's daughter.

* * *

I hope you like it, and yes, I've added an explanation, for those new readers thatmight be confused about the timeline of the story.

Please review, and be gentle, fair reader, for I bruise much too easily!


	2. Chptr 2: Expect the Unexpected

Chapter 2 is up. Iwill be trying my hardest to update regularly, as I have a feeling this is going to be a long story.

I have attempted French in this chapter, but as mine is limited (you'd think I'd pay attention for at least some of those ten years), please forgive me if I'm off.

I don't own any characters, as Ms. Rowling is the genius, not I.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 2: **Expect the Unexpected

_Ecole Beauxbatons_, France, 1989.

Remus Lupin stepped off the train to see the castle that was the home of _Ecole Beauxbatons du Magique _in the distance. It was quite a sight, with its high turrets and gilded arches, it gleamed white and gold against the pale blue sky.

Remus dragged his trunk along the platform at the train station, unsure if there were muggles present, to the exit at the end. A small man stood with a sign that read, _J.R. Lupine_. He approached the man, who turned and looked him up and down.

"Monsieur Lupeen?" He curled his lips slightly as he said his name.

"Oui."

"Thees' way."

Remus was lead to a waiting carriage, powder blue and resembling an oversized pumpkin, much like the one in the muggle fairytale he'd heard of as a child, and before he knew it, he was bumping along a winding country lane, the castle growing larger outside his window as he went.

He passed rolling fields of tall grass, and the occasional house amid rows of grapevines and cherry orchards, the sweet smell lingering thick in the air. It was like a scene right out of a George Eliot novel and Remus thought this would be his idea of paradise, though so soon after transformation, the sights and smells were just too much for him.

Classes had already begun at Beauxbatons, but, accommodating the lycanthropic professor, the headmistress had agreed he could begin a week later.

Dumbledore, his former headmaster and friend, had procured this latest job for him. He was very grateful, given that he hadn't worked for six months and was down to his last galleon, but the truth was that being a part-time English Literature professor and tutor for hire for privileged French children was not his idea of a bold career move. Still, the fact that the headmistress, Madame Maxime, was willing to hire a werewolf made the job impossible to turn down.

That, and his empty vault at Gringotts.

As the carriage came to a stop and he climbed out to meet his new boss, Remus' only thoughts were that this giantess of a woman that stood before him was either incredibly kind despite her looks or else Dumbledore had something on her. He tried not to chuckle at this ridiculous thought as she introduced herself and lead him through the castle to his private quarters.

As he walked past a group of pretty young French girls, it struck him that James and Sirius would be so jealous if they could see him now. He caught himself at this second unexpected musing.

"Monsieur Lupeen, you are steel very pale." The headmistress' lilting voice roused him as he found he was standing at the threshold of what he assumed were his private quarters.

"Per'aps you shood start your lessons day after next." Remus smiled but politely declined.

"Madame, I will be fine by tomorrow."

"Eef you are sure."

Madame Maxime seemed satisfied and left Remus to settle into his new home for the next ten months.

The next morning Remus began his day looking better but feeling nauseous. It wasn't the aftereffects of the full moon, but nerves. Though qualified, he'd never taught before and was unsure of how he would be received by privileged students who were used to having the best of everything, teachers included.

During breakfast, a few of the other professors, a Mr. McShane, and a Madame Chouette, professors of arithmancy and history respectively, had warned him about showing any fear or doubt. Mr. McShane, an older Scottish wizard with a grizzly beard and a rough demeanor, was particularly adamant that Remus go into his first class and show the students he was "all business", or else they would "eat him alive." The tough old man only made Remus more nervous and by the time he was standing in the empty classroom, waiting for the first bell, he was feeling his breakfast fighting to get back out.

But it was all for naught.

His first class, as it turned out, was a frightened group of first years, most of whom spoke little English. The first week would be similar to this, full of boys and girls aged eleven to fourteen, reading poetry aloud in broken English, or whispering quietly as they copied notes from the board at the front of the class.

The second week, though, was different.

The older students, from fifth to seventh year, were more jaded, fearless. As a group, they were haughty, their know-it-all sneers reminding him of the Slytherins of Hogwarts. He found most of the girls fit into two categories; the self-obsessed, self-proclaimed geniuses, who knew all the answers and asked too many questions, and the _coquettes_, as Chouette called them, who were equally self-obsessed, though with their own beauty, and never bothered with schoolwork yet managed decent grades. The boys, on the other hand, seemed to be either brains or brawn but certainly not both. Only a small percentage didn't seem to fit, and at the end of that second week, he met one student who stood out above the rest.

It was the very last class before the second weekend, when, traditionally, the older students were allowed into town for a day of shopping and socializing. There was a buzz of excitement among his fifth year class and he found it difficult to settle them enough to begin. As with every other class, he began by going through the class list and having each student introduce themselves so he could put faces to names.

He looked down the list, which arranged itself to match where the students chose to sit, as the first student stood up.

_Gison, E._

"Emmanuelle Gison."

He nodded, and the next girl did the same.

_Rocher, C._

"Celine Rocher."

He scanned the list as the next boy stood noisily and announced himself. A name caught his eye.

_Del Fuego, K._

"Maurice de L'Amour."

Remus looked up, past another boy speaking, his eyes sweeping over his students. He barely noticed as the next few students stood up, one by one, and did the same.

A dark-haired girl sitting at the back caught his eye. She had a bored look on her face that was at once familiar and unnerving.

_It couldn't be._

He stared as the introductions went down the row. It was her turn next.

The girl stood up slowly, her head barely visible behind the tall boy seated in front of her.

"Kali del Fuego." Despite the name, her accent was British. Very London. Very bored.

Remus tore his eyes away from her, his mind a jumble of thoughts. He began his lesson after the introductions, trying to focus on the task at hand.

He found himself stealing glances at the tiny girl as he walked around the classroom in pretense of offering help near the end of class. When the bell sounded, he forgot to assign homework, determined to ask the girl a question. As the others streamed out, Remus called out, "Miss del Fuego, a moment of your time." Several girls sniggered as she walked towards the front of the class. She didn't speak, but rather stared at him with cold eyes.

"Are you related to Dahlia del Fuego?" She looked at him suspiciously.

"She was my mother."

He could see the resemblance. Her dark orb-like eyes, her mouth set in a pout, the petite frame, and the exotic looks. It was Dahlia. But there was something else. As he pondered silently, her impatience grew and suddenly her eyes flashed a cool gray. His stomach leapt.

_It's not possible. _

"Are we done?"

He searched her eyes, looking for that familiar flash of gray, but it was gone. Convinced his mind was playing tricks on him, he dismissed her.

Remus went through the rest of his day in a daze, barely realizing when night had come, and spent the rest of the night in his private quarters, memories of old friends playing in his mind, until, exhausted, he fell into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

_Hogwarts_, 1973.

"Did you hear the latest?" Peter whispered, barely suppressing a grin.

"What now?" Sirius answered, bored.

"Let me guess," shot out James, "you grew a facial hair!" He made a show of inspecting Peter's chin, much to Sirius' delight.

Peter, embarrassed at his lack of puberty, pushed James' hand away.

"Stop it!"

"What is it, Peter?" Remus interjected patiently.

He knew they were about to get an earful of rumours and gossip. Peter lived for gossip, but Remus found this side of his little friend distasteful. Still, he had to admit; Peter's knack for finding things out had come in handy more than once.

"Yes," echoed Sirius, "What juicy little morsel do you have for us _now_?"

He was all condescension and attitude, but he was listening.

"That Slytherin, Dahlia – she's pregnant!" he whispered gleefully.

"No way!"

"Uh –huh."

"Where'd you here this?" Sirius, all pretense gone, was leaning in, anxious for Peter's answer.

"Bertha Jorkins."

"That chubby girl with the big mouth?"

"How would she know?" James was curious now, too.

"She heard some Slytherin girls in the washroom – you know, Moaning Myrtles?" He stopped for emphasis, enjoying the attention.

"They didn't know she was in there and they came in laughing about how they'd tricked her into revealing her secret."

"How?" Remus, seeing Sirius' reaction, was curious now, too.

"Not sure." He screwed up his face, trying to remember what he'd been told. He had a lousy memory.

"But apparently, they saw her in the shower."

"And?"

"They saw her stomach." He made a gesture with his hands below the table.

"How big is it?" A frantic look flashed across Sirius' face.

"I don't know. Why?"

Sirius leaned back, determined to show nothing, but Remus had seen it. Apparently, he'd been the only one.

"Just curious."

"Wait." James turned to Sirius. "Didn't you snog her last summer?"

"I did."

"You didn't do, um, anything _else_, did you?"

A guilty smirk spread across Sirius' face.

"No way!" Peter was in awe.

"You didn't tell me!" James was hurt.

Remus, always the most logical, was suddenly worried.

"Did you use protection?"

All three boys gaped at him.

"Well did you?"

"Of course," Sirius answered, a little too quickly. "What do you take me for?"

"A liar." James was angry.

"I never lied," Sirius responded haughtily, "you never asked."

"You're only thirteen!"

"So?"

"She's a fifth year!"

"And?" Sirius was doing his best to look nonchalant.

"Uh, was she your first?" Peter _had_ to know.

Sirius only smirked.

"Where you hers?" James _had_ to know.

"Doubt it," he answered, smirking and waggling his brows.

"Do you think it's _yours_?" Remus _had_ to know.

"Not a chance, mate!"

* * *

Remus joined the staff for breakfast the next morning, grumpy and tired, and, to his dismay, was informed he would be patrolling in the village from one to five that afternoon. It was part of staff duties and was done to insure the students behaved in a manner "befitting a lady or gentleman." This was, apparently, a problem for the students, who enjoyed mingling with unsuspecting muggles from the village. McShane was assigned morning patrols, for what he bluntly called "wanker duty", because the purpose, according to him, was to leave the boys, muggle and magical alike, frustrated by the end of the day.

Despite his fatigue, Remus found himself strolling through the quaint French village later that afternoon, enjoying the smell of fresh baguettes and mulled wine wafting from the various little shops along the main road. He walked for an hour, passing groups of students chatting merrily along the way, until he came to a less populated part of town. A little farther off, past a clump of trees by the lake, he heard a disturbance.

"Hey, pute!"

"Qu'est-ce que tu fait, conasse?"

He walked around to a clearing to see a group of fifth year girls huddled together, standing near a tiny figure seated on a rock by the lake.

"What's going on here?" he asked sternly as he approached, forgetting his French.

The group of girls turned to look at him, followed by the girl on the rock. It was Kali.

"De rien, professeur," a tall blonde answered silkily.

We were joost 'aving a chat," answered another.

He recognized the blonde and her friends. A know-it-all and two coquettes.

"I suggest you keep moving."

The blonde, Celine Rocher, curtsied mockingly, and the three were off instantly.

"Are you okay?" he asked the young girl as he approached the lake.

"Fine," she answered curtly.

There was an awkward silence as Remus searched for the right words. He wanted to be reassuring, like a teacher should be in situations like these, but he was at a loss.

"It's probably a good thing, _for them,_ you came along when you did."

Her voice was casual, like the insults the girls were hurling moments before were nothing to her.

"Why's that?" He was glad she had spoken first.

"They were about to eat shit, but they didn't know it yet."

He stared at her, taken aback.

_Was she always this blunt?_

"I hope you mean that figuratively."

She scoffed. "I don't."

Despite her candor, or maybe because of it, he walked towards her and sat down beside her on the soft ground.

"Why do they hate you?" he asked gently, looking up at her.

"No clue."

They sat in silence, watching a duck dive under the water, its tail end bobbing up and down.

"You know, your mother wasn't liked much by other girls at school, either."

"Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"I figured."

She looked down at him with dark, wide eyes and seemed to ponder something.

"Did you know her well?"

"No, different houses," he answered, as if that was explanation enough. Still, she looked at him quizzically.

"You see, there were four houses," he began to explain, but she cut him off.

"Let me guess, you were a Gryffindor."

"I was."

_Was it that obvious?_

"And mum was a Slytherin."

"I was also a few years younger."

"How many?"

"Two."

She looked at him, an odd expression of wonder on her face, but it passed quickly.

"You were destined never to mingle." She smiled.

"That's right," he chuckled.

_She really is a clever girl._

"Why aren't you with your friends, shopping, or … flirting with boys?" he asked suddenly, trying to lighten the mood.

"I think you actually have to have them first." There was bitterness in her voice.

"There must be some nice girls around to be friends with?"

"How do you know it's not me?" she asked him, smirking.

He saw a brief flash of sadness in her eyes.

"I just do," he answered, feeling sorry for her.

Apparently sensing this, she jumped up suddenly.

"I should go."

"As should I," he responded, standing up and brushing bits of dead grass off his robes.

She walked around the edge of the lake, and stopped, turning back to him.

"I do have friends, you know."

"Of course."

"There just off making the most of the day."

He looked at her, waiting for an explanation.

"You'll see," she chuckled, and was off.

Remus finished his patrols a few hours later, having caught three couples, all students, in various stages of undress in unlikely places – behind a barrel, in a storefront (much to the dismay of the shop keeper) and in a car, which the couple had broken into, on a deserted street by the train station. While he'd been embarrassed, the girls ranged from livid to mortified, while the boys beamed, he guessed, because it would get around the school and their reputations would be cemented forever.

He found he was a little elated that the last couple he had escorted to the headmistress' office included Celine Rocher, the tall blonde he'd seen teasing Kali earlier that afternoon.

He wasn't sure how it had happened, but in the short time he knew Kali, he was beginning to feel protective of her. He reasoned with himself that it was only because she seemed so sad and alone.

Even though something in the back of his mind told him different, he ignored it, choosing instead to believe the reasons he'd concocted for the affection he felt growing for the strange, tiny girl.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

The next few months passed uneventfully for Remus. He spent his days teaching and made extra money by tutoring students individually in the evenings. He'd made friends, of sorts, with a few of the staff members, enjoying conversations about the real world now and then, but, for the most part, he kept to himself. The only one who knew his secret was Madame Maxime and she had made every effort to schedule his classes around the full moon, so as not to raise any suspicion. Still, he found it best to keep his personal life just that. Not that he had much of one. In fact, if he was being honest with himself, he would admit there was no he missed back home and no one, he was sure, that missed him.

Conversations with staff members, when he was around, leaned towards the students and their wealthy families. He got to know which students had the most money, the most powerful parents, the oldest families. Even though, as a rule, he abhorred gossip, much like when he was at Hogwarts, he grew to look forward to it, as it was through the loose lips of the staff that he learned more about Dahlia and her daughter.

Dahlia, he learned soon after that second weekend in September, was dead. She'd died by her own hand when Kali was eleven. It was her grandmother and legal guardian, a close friend to a patron of Beauxbatons, that had secured a place for the young girl at the last minute. Apparently, her name had been placed on the list at Hogwarts when she was born, like her mother before her, but Monsieur de la Falaise, the patron, had managed the switch. This, of course, was unheard of and had caused a little scandal among the wealthiest French families, who felt it was wrong to let a girl without proper parentage into the hallowed halls of Beauxbatons. They also objected to the girl's grandmother, though no one was brave enough to voice that opinion to anyone other that the headmistress.

Kali, whose mother and grandmother were both infamous for getting involved with powerful men, married or not, carried her mother's maiden name, which was also her grandmother's, a practice unheard of in the magical community. Dahlia, like her mother before her, had refused to name the father when Kali was born in St. Mungo's in London in 1974, telling Ministry members responsible for recording births to "kiss her ass." McShane, the staff member who seemed to know the most about this, as his sister had been a Healer in the maternity ward at St. Mungo's at the time, told this particular part of the story with amusement, and Remus could tell he had admired the young woman for going against the norm, even if only on principle alone. (He got the feeling McShane had been quite a rabble-rouser in his youth.)

Remus, painfully aware of how the Ministry of Magic imposed their rules on people's lives, felt some sympathy for Dahlia, though he secretly wondered why she never named the father. If it _was_ Sirius, the Black name alone would have demanded respect (at least, back then), even though they were still very young, never mind unmarried. Maybe she really didn't know who the father was, as her reputation at school suggested, and she was ashamed to admit it. But a well-placed spell on the child could determine paternity, so that didn't make sense, either. Maybe it was another Black. Regulus was at Hogwarts at the same time, although he would have been twelve at the time of conception and Remus couldn't imagine that clueless clod of a Black wooing a girl like Dahlia. Not at _any_ age. There was always the possibility of Orion Black. He was a womanizer, and he was "friendly" with Celestia del Fuego, Dahlia's mother, Sirius had told them.

It had to be a Black. Remus knew it. She had the dark, wavy mane, the regal nose. And she was beautiful, though her looks were more exotic, much like Dahlia and her mother before her, who hailed from a small wizarding town, much like Hogsmeade, in southern Belize. But beyond the physical, there was the air of indifference, and her determined stare that both Sirius and Regulus shared. The stare they inherited from their father. And there were her eyes, a kaleidoscope of brown and silvery gray, which changed according to light, to mood, and reminded him more and more of Sirius Black.

It was on a cold November night, that Remus, his mind full of pieces of the puzzle that was this young girl, wandered up to the south tower of the castle, determined to rid his mind of all his thoughts by staring up at the moonless sky. He ascended the narrow stairs with his usual stealth, a handy side effect of being a werewolf, and unwittingly snuck up on the puzzle.

* * *

I hope you like! Please review, love it or hate it - just please be gentle, as it's my first fanfic, and I bruise easily!

Also, for those of you wondering about the French, I'll translate some ofit:

_pute_ - whore

_conasse_ - stupid bitch

_de rien_ - nothing

The names of students/teachers mean something, too, but I'll let you figure it out!


	3. Chapter 3: The Impossible is Possible

For anyone keeping up with this story, sorry I haven't updated lately. I will try to update more frequently. I've abandoned translation as it probably wrong anyway - sorry !

Hope you enjoy this chapter !

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or related characters - I just wish I did!

* * *

**Chapter 3**: The Impossible is Possible

"Merde alors!"

A sixth year boy swore loudly, having just set the hem of his powder - blue robes on fire as he dropped a cigarette to the stone floor. Kali was standing near the boy, but had noticed Remus standing in the archway. She seemed to observe him with interest. Remus was suddenly aware of his loose robes, revealing an old pair of jeans, faded and torn at the knees, and a worn gray t-shirt that fit too snug. He noticed she had a cigarette in her hand.

"Qu'est-ce tous fais?"

Olivier Demarchelier, a popular sixth year, and a boy he found regularly snogging girls in every corner of the castle, gaped at him, looking guilty.

"Pardonnez, monsieur," he mumbled into his chest, obviously aware that the last thing he needed was another detention. The headmistress had recently warned him the next detention would be his last at Beauxbatons.

Remus didn't speak immediately, not quite sure what to say. They were clearly breaking the rules, but he wasn't sure just how many. The sight of Kali dressed only in a tiny white cotton nightgown and a long black silk scarf draped loosely around her neck as she shivered in the chilly wind, caused some concern.

"Does this mean a detention, sir?" she asked, casually flicking off a bit of ash from the cigarette between her fingers.

"If you go directly back to your rooms this instant - no."

Olivier, obviously keen to avoid expulsion, rushed past him down the stairs.

"Au revoir!" she called after him, clearly annoyed. She took one long, last drag and flicked the butt over the castle wall to the grounds below.

Remus, not sure what to do, gawked at her, incredulously. She obviously had little respect for authority.

Or maybe it was just his.

She exhaled slowly, the smoke circling her wild, dark locks.

At that moment, she looked exactly like Sirius and he couldn't take his eyes away from the sight of her. He was instantly reminded of how his old mate would lean against the owlery wall, smoke swirling around him as he laughed his great barking laugh, and chatted with James, Remus and Peter, having all snuck up to the room just below the rafters of Hogwarts castle in the middle of the night.

"Professor?"

Her voice jolted him back to the present. He looked into her eyes, a sense of dread coming over him.

"Is there something wrong?"

"No." He realized he was staring.

"You should go back to your room." He suddenly needed her gone.

"No detention?"

He shook his head.

"If I find you up here again," he said, trying to steady his voice, "I will have to inform the headmistress. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Go on now." He desperately needed to be alone.

She didn't move, but stared back.

"Why do you always stare at me that way?"

He couldn't deal with her now.

"I don't know…what you mean."

"What do you see?"

She stepped closer to him, not breaking eye contact. He stepped back instinctively and felt the cool, hard wall against his back.

_Damn._

"It's nothing." The dread was turning to panic.

_She's only a girl._

She said nothing, but he felt as if she was challenging him. She was so close to him now that she had to tip her head back slightly.

"Tell me what you see." She was pleading, but there an angry edge to her voice.

He vaguely felt her moving, as her fingertips found the largest scar on his chest instinctively under the thin cotton and ran them along the length. A feeling of terror gripped him, but he didn't push her hand away. He was mesmerized by the storm in her eyes.

Then he saw it.

It was the same look, the same eyes that had pleaded silently to him years before, as his mate was dragged away to Azkabahn.

He shuddered involuntarily.

_Oh Merlin, it's true. She **is** his. She is Sirius Black's daughter._

"Excuse me."

A low, gruff voice broke them apart, and Remus looked around, bewildered, to see McShane staring at him, a look of severe disappointment on his face.

"Am I interrupting?"

Remus suddenly realized what it must look like. He was mortified.

"Just leaving, sir." She seemed undisturbed by what had just transpired. Then again, she hadn't seen what he had.

"Good idea."

Kali walked past Professor McShane, muttered a "good night" and disappeared into the castle. The older man circled Remus, who had moved away from the wall, determined to look natural.

"What are you thinking, boy?"

Remus, fighting back a wave of emotions, couldn't find the words.

"Any student is bad enough, mate, but _that_ one!"

Remus shook his head. "Nothing happened," he croaked. But that wasn't true. Something had happened. Just not what McShane thought.

McShane looked him up and down, as if trying to size him up.

"You seemed smarter than that, my boy." He sounded disappointed.

"It's not what you think."

But he didn't know how to tell him, _if_ he should tell him. The idea of the truth seemed absurd. _She's my old mate's daughter_ sounded even worse.

The older man took pity on him, wrapping an arm around his slumped shoulders.

"I believe you, boy," he said kindly. "It's just," he hesitated, "she's done this before."

Remus pulled away, unable to understand. "What?"

"The del Fuego women have quite a reputation, as you must know. Well, this one's earning it."

Remus shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

"She's already gotten a professor fired, just last year," he explained. "Poor, stupid bloke was obsessed. Even professed his love for her publicly, thank Merlin it was only to the rest of the staff."

"You think…she seduced him?"

"Well, Olymphe thinks differently, but I'm sure she wasn't completely innocent, and by what I saw just now…"

"She wasn't…," Remus interrupted, but trailed off, not sure what to say.

McShane looked at him shrewdly, and sighed.

"That girl's got so many people wrapped around her fingers. Even the great and mighty Dumbledore resides on her thumb!" He stuck out his own stubby thumb for emphasis.

The mention of his former headmaster caught Remus off guard.

"What do you mean?"

"You heard how she got here. Why do you think Olymphe fought so hard to get her in?"

"I thought it was that patron."

McShane scoffed.

"That _patron_, as you put it, couldn't have pulled _that _off. The man runs a brothel in Paris, for Merlin's sake!"

Remus found himself more confused than ever.

_Did Dumbledore know?_

"What does Dumbledore have to do with it, then?" He needed to know.

"I'm betting it's got something to do with the grandmother, Celestia."

"What about her?"

McShane looked positively giddy, his eyes sparkling at Remus' curiousity.

"It's all just a guess, but I reckon the girl's the daughter of somebody famous, or her mother is, maybe even Dumbledore himself. It would be scandalous, you know, fathering a child with the likes of one of them."

Remus was very aware of the older woman's reputation, having heard nasty rumours about her inclination to the Dark Arts growing up. During Lord Voldemort's gradual rise to power in the sixties and seventies, there were even rumours that Celestia was his lover. The fact that, shortly after his defeat, she was accused of being a Death Eater, only added to the rumours and innuendo. But Remus couldn't see Albus Dumbledore getting involved with Celestia del Fuego. He was much too clever to be taken in by her beauty, and much too moral a man to be attracted to someone so obviously against what he stood for.

And then everything fell into place.

Remus realized that, of course, Dumbledore knew who her father was, and always ready to do the right thing, or perhaps feeling guilty about never seeing Sirius for who he really was, he'd taken it upon himself to protect the young girl. The girl whose maternal side of the family alone was enough to ensure she would always be seen as a pariah; a girl who no one would ever accept, if they knew the whole truth.

But he must have known that sending Remus to Beauxbatons would only guarantee the truth came out; that Remus would see her father in her eyes. He felt anger rising and suddenly needed to be alone.

McShane, taking his silence for resignation, patted him on the back.

"It's okay, my boy," he said soothingly, pulling Remus out of his reverie and causing him to jump a little at the sound of his gruff voice.

"You don't have to thank me."

Remus wasn't sure how long he stood in the cold November night, or how he got back to his room later on. It was as if the only thing he could see clearly were those eyes and what lay behind them.

The eyes of a girl.

The eyes of a friend.

The eyes of a traitor.

For the first time in eight years, Remus allowed himself to cry.

* * *

I wasn't sure of Madame Maxime's first name - even though I reread GoF recently! Hope I got it right.

I hope you liked it, even if you didn't, a review would be nice...hint, hint!

**Coming Soon:** a bitter Remus, a glimpse into a secret Black's life and a confrontation with Dumbledore! Stay tuned!


	4. Chapter 4: Bits and Pieces

Hi, I'm back! This chapter was very hard to put together and was written over many days in the wee hours of the morning. I hope it doesn't suck.

Rockstar-101 - thanks for your tip on the hplexicon. Very helpful! BTW, though the first chapter begins at the end of Harry's 3rd year, chapter 2 goes back to 1989. hope it's not still confusing.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter - related. I just wish I did.

* * *

**Chapter 4:** Bits and Pieces 

An unusually cool November came and went, with December creeping in behind it with a bitter chill in the air. The holidays were near, and the excitement in the air was palpable. Tasteful decorations appeared throughout the palace one cool December morning, much to the delight of the staff and students, and much to the chagrin of a particularly moody lycanthropic professor. An invitation to Christmas Eve dinner from his former headmaster had come days earlier by owl, sending him into a foul mood. For Remus, all the pomp and fanfare were reminders of holidays past, the people he had shared them with, and how many of them were gone.

The holidays reminded him particularly of Christmas with his parents, who both died before his twentieth birthday, and the beautifully decorated tree his mother would spend the eve perfecting, as he and his father sat by the hearth and sipped hot cocoa. He was reminded of the delicious feasts his mother would make, and the way they would sit around playing games, opening presents and spending the day together, laughing and talking about everything and nothing.

But now he was alone, and Christmas in his little cottage just wasn't the same without them. Still, he looked forward to the time away from Beauxbatons, as it meant time away from grading essays, planning lessons -- and Kali.

The thought that he wouldn't have to see her every day, every look reminding him of the past, was a relief, though he wasn't too keen to see Dumbledore. Ever since Professor McShane let it slip that Dumbledore had helped Kali get into Beauxbatons, Remus felt an anger awaken towards him once again. He was sure the oldwizard knew all about the girl and was keeping secrets from him, just as he had years before.

Remus had never really forgiven Dumbledore for his part in the tragedy that befell James and Lily, two of his best and closest friends.Dumbledore and other members of the Order of the Phoenix had suspected Remus of being Voldemort's spy and because of this, he was kept in the dark. If only they would have trusted him. Instead, they did what countless others had done before them -- and since -- they suspected the werewolf.

It was still a sore subject for Remus, and whenever he thought about it, he would find himself drifting off into bitter thoughts. In fact, lately Remus found himself drifting off at the most inappropriate times – during staff meetings, during his lessons, in the middle of conversations. It was as if he had lost the ability to function in any normal way. It was, unfortunately, also something others had noticed as well.

Cyrus McShane had been the first to point it out.

"What's gotten into you, boy?" he asked him quietly over dinner one night, on the night of the full moon.

Remus stared at him, trying to register what he meant, while trying to ignore the throbbing in his head.

"You've been more than a little, uh, _distracted_ lately," he explained, a look of concern on his face.

Remus suddenly felt a tense knot in his stomach.

_Has it been that obvious?_

When Remus didn't answer, Cyrus went on.

"It's not the girl, is it?" he whispered a little too eagerly for Remus' liking. It immediately put him on edge.

"The girl?" he reiterated slyly, knowing exactly whom McShane was talking about.

"The del Fuego girl," he murmured. "Has she been giving you problems?"

"No, no," he scoffed, forcing a laugh.

"Just have a lot on my mind," he answered, trying not to look as haggard as he felt, only hours away from transformation.

McShane eyed him suspiciously for a moment then seemed to take him at his word. He leaned back and clapped Remus on the shoulder, causing him to wince.

"Woman troubles, eh," he remarked with an ugly grin.

Remus did not have the patience, nor the will, to keep this conversation going, but found he had no choice.

"You've got me," he said in what he hoped was a tone of defeat.

McShane chortled. "My boy, we've all been there." He gestured towards the other staff members around them at the dining table, as if inviting them to join in the conversation. Fortunately, they were immersed in a heated conversation over the newest member of the board of governors, so when no one remarked, he continued, unabated.

"So, what's the problem?"

"Well," started Remus, not sure what to say.

"A long – distance relationship?" the cagey man asked, saving him the trouble of thinking up a suitable yet vague response.

Even though his last real relationship had ended five years earlier, Remus decided it was best to go along with the lie. He nodded.

"Had me one o' those once," McShane said wistfully, a far away look in his eyes.

"What happened?" Remus asked, thankful the conversation wasn't focused on him for the moment.

"Left me for a door – to – door broom salesman."

"That's … terrible," was all Remus could think to say.

Cyrus seemed to snap back to the task at hand.

"No matter," he said soberly. "What are you going to do?"

He looked at Remus expectantly.

"Um." He fumbled for an answer, but the conversation was taking a toll on his already tired mind.

"You _must_ have a plan, my boy!"

Before Remus had a chance to respond, he felt a light tap on the shoulder. He looked up to see the headmistress towering over him.

"May I 'ave a word, monsieur?" she asked genially.

"Of course."

Remus excused himself, abandoning his half – eaten meal gratefully, for he was desperate to get away from McShane and the noise of the dining hall. Though he knew the old man would corner him eventually, curious for more details, it would not be for a few days, as he would be holed up in his private quarters, recovering.

He followed the large woman to the front hall of the palace. She informed him that she would not be accompanying him to the dungeons to place the wards on the doors as she usually did. The resident healer, Madamemoiselle Colbert, would perform the task instead. Remus agreed, though he had no choice. The healer had only been told of his condition last month, when he injured himself more badly than usual, and needed a blood – replenishing potion. From the look on her face when she saw his injuries, he knew she wasn't at all comfortable with the situation.

Madame Maxime also informed him that another student had requested a tutor for English studies.

He left the headmistress moments later with an appointment for a tutoring session in two days time, and headed back to his room to wait until it was time to go down to the dungeons. Had he been in a better state, he would have thought to ask the student's name, for the surprise that greeted him two nights later in the library was most unexpected and could not have come at a worse time.

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Kali sat in a small room off the library, waiting for Professor Lupin. It had been a week since her last English Literature class, and, though she usually saw him in the halls and during meals, she hadn't seen him anywhere in the palace for the last few days. She felt anxious as she waited, not wanting to admit the reason why.

She rarely felt nerves around anyone, teachers included, but it was different with Professor Lupin.

As she looked around the room, which was barren save for a table, two chairs, a lantern and a set of powder – blue curtains on the tiny window, she felt her anxiety grow.

It had started because of the way he looked at her, with equal amounts of awe and disdain, but as the months dragged on, Kali noticed how her teacher tried to avoid her. She was used to a certain amount of notoriety (what, with a mother like Dahlia and a grandmother like Celestia, a bad reputation was inevitable) but his reaction to her didn't seem to fit. It was as if she had got on the bad end of a spell, and had come out grotesque and disfigured, and though he couldn't bear to look, he found it hard to turn away. It was unnerving, and it led her to do the one thing she rarely did – confide in her mates.

Kali complained about Professor Lupin one day, towards the end of November, as she lounged in the common room of her dorm, to her best – and only – mates, Olivier and Sebastien.

"Perhaps he fancies you," was Sebastien's response.

"Why are you bothered?" was Olivier's.

Kali had wanted to explain how her new teacher's behaviour made her feel. She wanted to convey the intensity of his stares and the way she felt like he was trying to see into her soul; she wanted them to just_ understand_, but she knew theycouldn't and she would end up feeling like an idiot if she told them what she felt.

There were times she cursed not having any female friends. Sebastien, being naïve and a little clueless, was no help, even though he was in the same class, and Olivier, who was shrewd and perceptive, was of little help either, as he was a sixth year, shared none of her classes, and couldn't understand why she hated the attention.

"Men stare at you all 'ze time," he said to her in his thick accent, "it's never bothered you before."

He was right. Looking like her mother, who was as widely known for her beauty as her reputation, getting gawked at by strangers was nothing new. It had happened so often in recent years (ever since her body started to curve in all the right places), she barely noticed at times. She figured most people saw Dahlia when they looked at her (or Celestia, which was even worse) but when this man looked at her, it was as if he was seeing something, or rather, _someone_, else. The problem was, she didn't want him to.

As a child growing up in the del Fuego home (a two – story in the middle of a muggle neighbourhood in London), she was taught to keep a myriad of secrets.

One of those secrets was about her father.

She knew his name was Sirius Black, the eldest son of a pureblood family with a long and sordid history in Britain. He had also attended Hogwarts but was younger than her mother, and was considered, by Celestia, too immature to be a father.

It was a secret she loathed to keep as a child, knowing he was out there, living his life, unaware of her existence, while she and her mother were forced to live under her grandmother's thumb. But her mother was able to get away, disappearing for long stretches of time, starting when Kali was about three years old. She would leave unexpectedly and return the same way, showing up in the middle of the night, kissing Kali on the forehead, leaving her a gift and being gone the next day. For Kali, this was what a parent did.

They left.

While Dahlia flitted in and out of her life, Celestia was her constant. She taught her the darkest of magic, as well as the light, and exposed her to dark wizards and creatures widely feared. She taught her how to use and control magic in ways she knew most others couldn't.

And she taught her how to lie.

Only when Kali was six, and her mother came back to find the war much too close to home, did she take her away from Celestia's influence. With the help of a kindly old wizard, Kali and her mother were going to have a normal life.

Or so the young girl thought.

In truth, the dream she had at the age of six, the dream of a child starved for attention from a parent too often and too long absent, was more of a nightmare. Her mother slowly spiraled into madness, and by the time the war was over, she had succumbed to the darkness that plagued her mind.

Kali knew many things, understood some, and questioned very little. That is, until she found herself an orphan of sorts, at the age of seven. With her mother gone mad and her father branded a murderer, she began to question everything she'd been taught and she came to the conclusion some four years later, as she stood by her mother's grave, that her everything she'd been taught was wrong. It was in that moment that she vowed to never let Celestia control her again. It was also why, in part, when Olivier came up with his "brilliant' plan (which Sebastien thought was rather foolhardy) Kali, knowing it would be the last thing Celestia would want, agreed.

For all the secrets she held within, for all the lies she was forced to tell, she was keenly aware that this man, the one she waited for now, knew something more. She was convinced he held the pieces to her life she didn't have, and she was determined to get them, though at the same time, she feared what he might know.

She pondered this as the door to the tiny room opened and Professor Lupin entered slowly, looking much the worse for wear. Kali, startled out of her thoughts, gasped a little when she saw him, and then tried to cover it up with a cough. She tried not to stare as he shuffled to his seat like an old man and sat down with a tiny groan. She was sure she saw a look of surprise fleet across his worn looking face, but it was gone instantly.

"I wasn't aware you were in need of a tutor," he said, his voice horse.

"My grandmother insisted," she responded offhandedly, rolling her eyes for emphasis.

He looked at her shrewdly, the flickering light from the lantern illuminating the premature wrinkles on his gaunt face.

"Does she know you receive top marks in all your classes?" he asked.

_Whydoes he know that?_

She shrugged.

"Well, then," he said, shuffling sheets of blank parchment in front of him distractedly, "why don't you tell me what you want?"

"Excuse me?" she asked, caught off guard.

"What do you hope to gain with extra lessons?"

"Oh," she said, mentally slapping herself.

After a moment of thought she answered honestly.

"I'd really like to study some more muggle literature."

"I see," he said, though he didn't look at her.

"Have you read much of it?"

"Some," she answered, then, feeling reckless, added, "my grandmother always discouraged it."

Upon hearing those words, he finally looked up at her, eyes curious.

"Why's that?"

"If it's not written about, or by, purebloods, it's not worth reading," she answered, reciting Celestia's philosophy.

"That's a shame."

"Why's that?"

"That sort of literature tends to be poorly written."

When she looked at him quizzically, he added, "run – on sentences."

She smiled a little, fighting the urge to roll her eyes, at his feeble attempt at a joke.

"A pity smile," he said chuckling. "I must look worse than I feel."

She quietly agreed that he looked pretty terrible.

"Perhaps we should begin another day," she commented, wondering what exactly was wrong with him.

"Well at least let me give you a list of books to begin with," he said as he scribbled on a piece of parchment.

Kali noticed the effort it took for him to write.

Pushing the paper towards her, he said, "You can order these from _Le Freres Toulouse_ in Marseilles, though it may take a while for some of these titles."

She looked at the list, recognizing quite a few.

"If you're going to Britain for holidays, you can always get them at Flourish & Botts, they have quite an extensive section on the classics."

"I'll be stuck in Paris," she answered, letting her resentment show.

"Most people would quite enjoy being 'stuck in Paris' for the holidays, as you put it," he said, giving her a pained smile.

"Most people don't have to deal with Celestia when they get there," she said bitterly.

He seemed to decide it was better to ignore her last comment.

"Have you read anything on the list?" he asked instead.

"My mother had a copy of this one," she said, pointing to the second book on the list.

He smiled, seemingly impressed.

"Would you like to start with that one, then?"

She nodded, looking directly at him for the first time.

It was her turn to stare, and she did so unabashedly. He looked like he had been at death's door, and perhaps still stood on the threshold. She felt a pang of sympathy as she took in his sickly, gaunt appearance. He indulged her for a moment then got up to leave.

"I think it's best we start in the New Year," he said, trying to mask his pained expression as he moved towards the door.

"Of course," she agreed, confused by her sudden shift of emotions towards him. He seemed different with her as well.

_Maybe he's dying._

"Have a Happy Christmas," he called out as he left.

She rolled her eyes, as she was sure he wouldn't see her.

"I'll try."

As Remus made his way slowly back to his private quarters, taking the long way round so as to avoid running into any staff, he silently congratulated himself. For the first time since meeting that girl, he was able to keep his wits about him. Though surprised, he didn't let her resemblance to the man he thought he knew well (once upon a time) get to him.

Tonight she seemed different, as if a wall had come down – at least partially. The way she spoke of her family -- if one person could be considered thus -- while flippant and honest on the surface (something she did quite well), gave him a glimpse of something more. There was something behind her words that had nothing to do with teenaged angst or rebellion. It reminded him of the way Sirius behaved that first year hemet him, when he was still coming to terms with family issues. He too would make vague comments about his parents, his cousins, letting the bitterness seep through, while still trying to hide from the truth. He worked it out, or seemed to, in the end, by cutting himself off from all the Blacks. Remus wondered if Kali wanted to do the same with Celestia; wondered if she really could.

He stopped his train of thought as he entered his room and seated himself in the armchair by the fire.

It always went back to Sirius when he saw her; always went back to the past.

He realized, as sleep settled on his tired frame, that he needed answers. It was the only way _he_ could come to terms with the past. It was the only way he could get on with his life.

* * *

Yes, I know, it's become a bit angsty, but it was inevitable.

Coming Soon -Chapter 5: Questions& Answers - Remus finally confronts Dumbledore!

Please take the time to review. All comments (as long as they're not mean) and suggestions welcome!


	5. Chapter 5: Questions

Hello All!

This chapter was originally called 'Questions & Answers' but was - potentially - very long, so it has been broken up into at least two chapters, all centred around the holidays.I hope you like it!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter or related characters, even though I wish I did (see, I've been eyeing this house...)

**

* * *

****Chapter 5:** Questions… 

The last few weeks in December before Christmas Break went by quickly, as students polished off essays and studied for end of term tests, and the population of the great white castle prepared for the coming festivities.

Before Remus knew it, the day he had been anticipating arrived.

It was withdetermination and resolve that he awoke on Christmas Eve day, ready to face the man he had respected, feared, admired and resented over the years.

He was ready to play the interrogator.

Having been interrogated by the wizard before, as a child, as a teen, and later, as a man, he knew how it felt. Now it would be Dumbledore's turn to 'come clean', as the headmaster had put it to him once before.

The thought of turning the tables on Dumbledore gave Remus a perverse satisfaction, but moments later he felt guilty at taking pleasure in something so petty as revenge; especially towards the man who had given him the opportunity to be more than a frightened little boy with a terrible secret.

Indeed, he had come a very long way from the little boy who met the tall, lanky wizard with the long beard and pointy hat so many years ago, too afraid to leave his mother's side, too scared to make friends for fear of exposure and isolated from people 'for his own good'.

Remus wiled away the hours until dinner by wandering aimlessly in the village of Hogsmeade (where he had spent the last night) and sitting in his room at the Inn abovethe _Three Broomsticks_, childhood memories flooding his mind. The memories, brought about by the melancholy the season provoked within him, were what he privately referred to as 'Before' and 'After' – before Hogwarts and after.

Remus' parents, though well – intentioned, had been very protective of him as a child. Having been bitten at the age of seven by a werewolf as he played near his home on the outskirts of London, he was subjected to the pain and horror that came with transformation once a month, most of his life. His parents, desperate to save their only child from such an existence, did all they could to relieve his suffering. They spent all the gold they had in search of a cure, even selling their two – story house with double garage. His father, who worked for the Ministry of Magic in the Magical Law Enforcement Department, quit his job and moved his small family to the north, to a tiny cottage surrounded by woods, and took up odd jobs in the sparse community, all in an effort to be closer to his son. Despite this, Remus always felt a distance between him and his father. It was as if his father blamed him for ruining their lives, but felt guilty for thinking it. His mother, however, showered him with attention, doting on his every move, until he felt like he would suffocate. As a child, he didn't understand the stifling nature of his mother. Back then it felt safe. It kept him sane.

It was only when he had finished his first year at Hogwarts, had made friends, had learned many new wonderful and interesting things, did he realize what a saviour that kindly old wizard had been. He had freed him from the prison his parents had, unintentionally, created for him, allowed him to be a child, to be a boy, to feel human for the first time he could remember.

The hour drew near and Remus, both eager and reluctant to see his former headmaster, left the warmth of his room for the cold soggy evening air. He disapparated outside the tavern, apparating at the gates of Hogwarts. He had to endure the bitter chill, which seemed all the harsher since being in the south of France for the past four months, as he walked the grounds to the castle.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Remus, the subject of his inquiry was, at that very moment, preparing for an interrogation of her own, though she didn't know it. To her, it was another attempt by Celestia to keep friends in high places. This was the only way she could explain being invited to Christmas Eve dinner at Malfoy Manor in London.

It had been quite a surprise when, upon reaching home (though she didn't regard it as such), Celestia had announced they were leaving for London first thing the next morning. Kali had expected to spend the whole of her holidays holed up in Paris with Celestia and her horrid 'friend', Henri de la Falaise. She loathed the man, who was nothing but a glorified pimp with old money and connections, and was secretly relieved they would be going back to England instead. She missed London and had dreamed of going back for many years. It wasn't until they reached their old house, boarded up and dusty, did Celestia reveal their dinner plans. Kali, always highly suspicious of her grandmother (with good reason), prepared for the worst, and was somewhat relieved when a tiny house elf greeted them at the door of the stolid home, and beckoned them inside with a smile.

They were led through a grand hallway to an even grander sitting room, where the man himself – Lucius Malfoy, greeted them. Kali remembered the flaxen – haired man with the haughty demeanor as an occasional visitor to their home during the height of the war. Celestia had accommodated him and his fellow Death Eaters many times, healing wounds and counteracting defensive spells in the room below the stairs. Kali was called upon, occasionally, to fetch potions or assist with dressing wounds, but mostly she watched silently as grown men reverted to sobbing children were patched up and pushed out the door. She learned a lot watching the unlicensed (and illegal) healer and put the knowledge to good use at Beauxbatons, where she would heal students (for a price) when they were too afraid to go to the resident healer, Mademoiselle Colbert for fear of detention, or worse.

The dinner itself was uneventful. After being introduced to Lucius' wife Narcissa (who was equally pale, and if it was possible, even more haughty) and their young son Draco (also pale and rather spoiled), they sat down at the elaborately carved long wooden table in the grand dining hall, which glittered of gold and finery, and tucked in to a feast of the finest French fare. This amused Kali, but she did not show any sign of it, nor spoke a word. She left that to Celestia, who enquired after 'old friends'. Kali barely listened, instead watching the young boy, about nine years old, pick at his food and pull faces. She could feel the pale woman's eyes turn towards her occasionally, though she gave no hint of notice. Instead, she continued to 'eat', vanishing the food away as she placed the fork in her mouth. Even though they were guests, she knew enough to never trust a Death Eater, and to never eat what they served you.

After dinner, they were invited back to the sitting room, where more inane conversation (which was of no interest to Kali) continued, until Lucius suggested his wife give Celestia a tour of the mansion. She obliged a little reluctantly, leaving Kali alone with the elder Malfoy and his son. A moment later, the house elf entered and the little boy was bustled out of the room to bed. He went quietly but pouted the whole way out, the double doors closing firmly behind him.

Kali sat opposite the pallid, slender man. She saw the cold look in his eyes turn to curiosity.

"How are you enjoying _Beauxbatons_?" he asked, pronouncing the school's name with a perfect French accent.

"It's alright," she answered tersely, suddenly aware that this private meeting had been orchestrated.

"Just 'alright'?" he asked, smirking.

She considered him for a moment, taking in his formal disposition.

"_Alright..._it sucks," she answered, curious to see his reaction to her supposed candor.

He chuckled, though Kali could tell it was false.

"Perhaps you would have preferred Hogwarts?"

"Not really," she replied, tilting her head slightly.

"Why's that?"

"There's only so much you can learn at school." She only half – believed this statement.

His thin lips curled into a smile at her words.

"And you've learned so much from your grandmother," he stated.

"Oh yes," she responded, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

It was not lost on him and his smile disappeared.

They sat in awkward silence, eyeing each other openly, until Mr. Malfoy spoke once more.

"Do you not remember me?" he asked suddenly.

"I do."

"And the others?" She suspected where this line of questioning was headed.

"Yes," she answered simply. She was not going to make this easy for him.

"Many loyal to the cause are gone now," he said a little wistfully, "but still, those of us left still remain loyal."

"Like you?" she asked, looking him directly in the eyes.

"And your grandmother," he added.

"You think Celestia shares your views?" she asked mockingly.

"You doubt it?" he demanded, leaning in towards her.

"I question it," she stated firmly, determined not to show any emotion.

His eyes narrowed as he considered her.

"She had quite a special relationship with the Dark Lord," he stated silkily.

Kali knew he was fishing, and wondered what Celestia thought they were talking about. It certainly wasn't this. When she didn't answer he continued, seeming to take her silence as a sign of doubt towards him as well.

"Though our leader is gone, he is not forgotten," he stated with vehemence.

"Funny," she said echoing his silky tone, "I thought it was the other way round."

"Excuse me?" he asked, losing his composure for a moment.

"May I be frank with you, _sir_?" she asked, leaning in towards him now as well.

"Of course," he answered silkily, regaining his composure and sitting upright once more. He looked at her greedily.

"Don't let Celestia play you for a fool," she stated harshly. "She is very good at manipulating men and I've seen enough to know that any man – _any man_ – is vulnerable."

She had planted the seed and watched him struggle to wrap his one – track mind around her bold statement. She resisted the urge to break into a grin as he tried, in vain, to break into her mind with occlemency, more curious than ever to know what _she_ knew about the Dark Lord. Instead, she continued to keep eye contact, her face as unreadable as her mind. He seemed on the verge of speaking when the doors burst open and his wife walked in hastily, followed by Celestia. Kali was secretly relieved and jumped up suddenly.

"Thank you for your hospitality," she said, walking towards the pallid, snobby woman. She stretched out her hand; Mrs. Malfoy extended hers, and they shook briefly. There was a look of utter surprise on her face at Kali's sudden change of demeanor.

"Dinner was_ magnifique_," she went on, smiling, "and your home is so _lovely_, I'm sure grandmamma enjoyed seeing it," she simpered.

She turned towards Celestia, still smiling. The older woman seemed to regard her with confusion and curiosity. When no one spoke, she continued.

"It was so _lovely_ to meet you," she said in a voice unlike her own, "and I do hope we meet again." She then turned towards the tall, sallow man, who was standing, a look of incredulity on his face.

"Mr. Malfoy, _lovely _to see you again. Thank _you_ for your hospitality." She then turned towards the others, bade her hosts a 'Happy Christmas' and walked straight out of the room, continued down the hall and out the front door, disapparating on the doorstep with a smile of satisfaction on her face.

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Dinner with Albus Dumbledore had not been what Remus had expected. He imagined they would dine in the Great Hall, joined by the school's odd assortment of staff members and acquaintances. Instead he was led to the headmaster's private quarters by a tiny house elf. The spiral stairs, which led to the headmaster's office and moved of their own accord, had reversed, sending him deep beneath the familiar room. Remus, only one of a handful of people to know almost every inch of the castle, was amazed to find he was standing in a room he never knew existed.

The room itself was a comfortable size, and decorated in a rich shade of purple. There were plush, velvet sofas and two armchairs by the hearth of a stately fireplace of deepest mahogany, its mantle lined with photographs of smiling, waving people Remus guessed were his family. The walls were lined with mahogany bookcases, every shelf occupied with old books and various magical instruments, some of which he recognized from his days as a student. Even though they were in the lower part of the castle, the fire cast a warm glow over the whole room.

Remus, looking around curiously, was startled by the sudden presence of the man himself – Albus Dumbledore. He greeted his old student warmly and offered him a glass of brandy to 'fight the chill'. Remus took it gladly, hoping it would calm his nerves. The two men sat on the sofas opposite each other, and engaged in small talk for several minutes, Remus pushing back the bitterness he felt in Dumbledore's presence, until a house elf interrupted, announcing dinner was served.

They were led to an adjoining room, where they sat down at a small, cozy table and feasted on the usual Hogwarts holiday fare. Remus immersed himself in the hearty meal, forgetting his resentment temporarily as he enjoyed every bite.

Afterwards, they retired back to the sitting room, where the older wizard invited him to sit by the fire and placed a glass of the finest muggle cognac in his hands.

"How are you finding life in France?" Dumbledore asked after a momentary silence.

"Beauxbatons is fine," he answered, sensing the headmaster's real question, "but it is no Hogwarts."

Dumbledore smiled genially.

"And life as a teacher?" he asked.

"Fine," Remus answered curtly.

"And your students?" he asked casually.

Remus tensed a little at this question, wondering if the all – knowing Dumbledore had guessed his intentions.

"They are bright, for the most part, though a little lacking in, uh, moral fortitude," he answered honestly.

Dumbledore continued to smile, as if waiting for more. When Remus didn't speak, he continued.

"'_Education has for its object the formation of character'_,"**(1)** he quoted. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Remus pondered the words for a moment. "Yes, I suppose," he said finally.

"Of course, those willing to learn are more open to ideas of ethics and morals."

"Do you think I can change the way my students think?" he asked, not sure what the old man was trying to say.

"I believe as educators, we have the power to nudge them in the right direction," he answered, eyes sparkling.

They sat in awkward silence, sipping the aged cognac and staring into the fire.

"It doesn't always work, though," Remus stated bitterly after a moment.

"I sensed something was bothering you," he stated with a sigh. "Perhaps you'd like to talk about it?"

"Not with you," he blurted out before he knew what he was saying.

Dumbledore looked startled, but quickly masked it with a benevolent smile.

Remus couldn't hide it any longer. He felt like he was about to explode, his mind full of questions and accusations. Before he knew what he was doing, the words came out.

"Why did you send me to Beauxbatons?" There was an accusatory tone to his voice, though he hadn't intended it.

Dumbledore seemed to consider him for a moment.

"You needed a job and they needed a qualified teacher," he stated simply.

Remus felt the old frustration at Dumbledore's calm demeanor rush back.

"There was no other reason?" he demanded.

Dumbledore studied him silently.

"Tell me the truth," he demanded, disregarding the voice in the back of his mind that begged him to stop. He was losing patience and desperate for answers.

Dumbledore sighed, lowering his glass to the table at his side.

"You needed a job, they needed a teacher," he reiterated, "and I thought those needs far outweighed the implications of your finding out the truth."

"But I was wrong," he added sadly.

"So I'm right," he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.

Dumbledore nodded, looking resigned.

"Say it."

"Your student," he began, "Kali del Fuego, is Sirius Black's daughter."

* * *

The confrontation between Lupin and Dumbledore was very hard to write. I still thinks the dialogue's awkward... 

**(1)** The quote is by Herbert Spencer, a British philosopher from the late 19th century. I found it randomly and thought it fit.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, with the different POV's and everything.

Please feel free to comment (_constructive_ criticism welcome!)

Just push the pretty purple button!

Coming (Very) Soon: **Chapter 6:** ...& Answers


	6. Chapter 6: and Answers

Hi, I'm back, still determined to keep this story going...

This is the 2nd part to 'Questions', though _technically_ chapt 6.

I hope you like it.

**rockstar-101:** Thanks for your encouragement. To answer your q's, Harry and Draco are both nine and Kali is 15, making her six years older (she was born in '74, they were born in '80 - I believe).

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except my imagination.

**

* * *

****Chapter 6:** …& Answers 

Remus let the words sink in; aware that he was now closer to the answers he had been seeking for the past few months. He struggled with the conflicting emotions he had entertained for days. After a moment, he asked the first question that popped into his head.

"How long have you known?"

"Soon after James and Lily had their son, Dahlia came to me, confused and frightened, and confided the truth."

"Why? Was she in danger?" he asked in a rush.

"Dahlia's mother was a vital part of the Death Eaters, though she wasn't one herself."

"But she helped them?"

"She was their Healer."

Remus stared at Dumbledore incredulously.

"And Dahlia?"

"She found out that her daughter was being exposed to dangerous wizards and became afraid of what might happen to her if she left her in her mother's care any longer."

"Was Sirius one of them?" he asked after a short silence.

"I honestly don't know," he frowned. "Dahlia never mentioned him except to tell me he was the girl's father, then she compelled me to keep her secret."

"Compelled?"

With a curse," he explained.

Remus was aware of the many charms and curses that could be used, and wondered briefly which she had chosen.

"So he doesn't know about her," he said more to himself than to the man sitting in front of him. A puzzling thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Why did she come back to Britain after the war?"

Dumbledore looked surprised for a moment, then a look of comprehension came across his face.

"You've been talking to Cyrus McShane," he said. To Remus, it sounded like an accusation.

"He seems to know a lot about them, and no one else was giving me answers," he said defensively.

"Cyrus is an old fool who enjoys spreading gossip and rumours," Dumbledore responded with a wry smile, "but restraint is something that eludes him."

Remus felt his cheeks redden, but the need to know far outweighed his embarrassment.

"So what is the whole truth?" he asked, still more impatiently.

Dumbledore leaned back, placing his hands on his lap, his fingers pressed against each other in a familiar gesture; a gesture that signaled to Remus that the explanation he sought was coming.

"I feel I need to start at the beginning," he said, "or at some point that may be considered a beginning."

Remus smiled at the logic, despite the warring emotions within him. He nodded as if to go on.

"Celestia, as you may or may not know, was born in a wizard village in the deepest jungles of Belize. It is much like Hogsmeade, as only wizards –purebloods – inhabit it, but there are differences. For one, this village has a history of dark and ancient magic, though the people do not distinguish between what we consider light and dark. For another, foreigners and their ways are unwelcome. The village is cloaked and unplottable, and has, as far as I know, never been seen by outsiders.

Celestia, for reasons only known to her, left home as a young woman, knowing she would never be allowed back. She traveled the world, creating a reputation for herself as a gifted Healer and eventually settled in London. She was beautiful, powerful and mysterious, which garnered her a lot of attention, but being naïve about the ways of the world, she quickly fell in with unsavoury characters and soon after arriving on these shores, she found herself pregnant and alone. In a few short years she went from being admired to being shunned by society.

This is when Voldemort befriended her. He saw her potential as an ally; perhaps he was taken with her beauty, though surely he was attracted to the power she possessed.

He helped her and in return he gained her loyalty."

"But she wasn't a Death Eater?" Remus interrupted.

"Does she bear the Dark Mark? I don't believe she does, but she is forever connected to Voldemort in a rather, uh, _unique_ way."

Remus gave the headmaster a quizzical look and then a frightening thought occurred to him.

"Is he,… is she…?" He stuttered, unable to put the thought into words.

"No," Dumbledore responded quickly, "he is not Dahlia's father."

Remus breathed a sigh of relief but looked at the headmaster questioningly once more.

"I'm afraid that part of the story is for another time," Dumbledore responded firmly, effectively closing the subject of Dahlia's paternity. He continued.

"When Dahlia started at Hogwarts, she was very much a Slytherin – pure-blood and proud of it. But as time went on, I believe she began to question what she'd been taught, and then in the summer before her fifth year, she got to know a boy, who, like her, found his family's prejudices disdainful."

Remus scoffed at this.

"Make no mistake, Remus," Dumbledore responded, "Sirius _did_ question what he'd been taught at the time."

"But in the end he decided they were right," he said bitterly.

"It seems so," the old wizard answered in a sad tone.

This sat in silence, each man immersed in thought. The fire crackled softly, its long flames beginning to die away.

"I suspected, you know, back then, when we were in school," Remus said, feeling the need to confess.

"Dahlia told me Sirius confronted her but she lied to him. She made him believe her."

Remus hadn't known about this, and wondered how much Sirius had really kept from his friends back then.

His thoughts turned towards his student.

"Does Kali know who her father is?"

"I believe she does, though I can't be sure. You see, Celestia has never allowed me much contact."

"Why not?" he asked, though he thought he knew the answer.

"Well," he answered patiently, "there is the obvious." His eyes sparkled with mischief. "But," he continued, "there are also things not many people know about."

He paused, as if searching once more for the right words. Remus was hanging on every word, the need to know more eating away at him.

"I mentioned Celestia's magical prowess and how it surely attracted Voldemort. What I failed to mention, omitted, in fact, is the kind of power she possesses. I did not do this as a means of keeping things from you, it's just," he sighed audibly, "it is not something I can put into words. You see, Celestia and, to a lesser degree, Dahlia, both possessed an inherent magic, not learned, but ingrained. Celestia possesses it still; her daughter, though still pureblood, was not as naturally gifted."

Remus tried to understand what Dumbledore was telling him. Still confused, he asked, "What about Kali?"

"Ah, Kali," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "She is," he paused, "like nothing – _no one_ – I've ever seen."

When Remus looked at Dumbledore in confusion once more, he asked, "Have you never seen it?"

He thought back to the last four months and suddenly realized something significant.

"She is one of the few students who rarely uses magic. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen her use it."

"She's learned to hide it well, but you see, she is, in fact, much more powerful than her mother or grandmother ever were. No doubt, it's the combination of her ancestry – the del Fuegos and the Blacks – two of the oldest pureblood families I've ever encountered."

"What are you saying?" Remus asked rudely, showing his frustration once more.

"I am saying, Remus, that Kali possesses powers the likes of which none of us has ever seen and, more importantly, would never understand. The magic she possesses is such a part of her, an extension of her, that she has no need for a wand or words. She is not the most powerful witch I've known, but she is powerful in a way that would be perceived as dangerous if known."

Remus still struggled to understand. What Dumbledore was telling him now was difficult to wrap his head around. After a moment, he spoke.

"So that's why Dahlia ran away? To prevent Death Eaters from finding out?"

"She was afraid they would try to use her somehow. She was afraid of Celestia."

He knew there were more answers to be had and knew instinctively he would not be getting them tonight. Instead, he turned to another burning question.

"Did you help her get into Beauxbatons?" Remus considered the source, but still had to ask.

"Yes. I promised Dahlia nine years ago that I would protect her daughter and I have tried my best to keep that promise." Dumbledore sounded weary as he said this.

Something in Dumbledore's countenance compelled Remus to ask the question that plagued him.

"Do you think she has a chance?"

Dumbledore looked at him intently, as if searching for the right answer.

"You have taught her, spoken to her, no doubt seen her talents; perhaps you are better suited to answer that question."

It was not the response he had expected. Everything he'd just been told was pushed to the back of his mind as shock turned slowly to a jumble of emotions, which had been simmering like a potion in a cauldron, and finally boiled up to the surface.

"I knew Sirius for a decade," he said, his voice filled with anger, "I spoke to him almost every day for seven years, lived with him, and confided in him as he confided in me. Yet never in a million years would I have thought him capable of doing what he did. Even when he almost had me kill Severus, I was blinded by friendship."

His voice had risen steadily, though he managed to keep his hostility reigned.

"I considered him a brother, just as I considered my two other mates. I would no more have believed Peter capable of such deceit, or James. But I was wrong, and my friends lost their lives because of it -- because of HIM!"

Remus hung his head, feeling every emotion drain out of him, and sobbed into his hands.

"I am no judge of character," he said, fighting tears.

In that moment he realized why he had felt compelled to confront Dumbledore.

It wasn't that he needed to know for certain that Kali was a Black. He knew the moment he looked into her eyes, the first time he met her, she was Sirius' daughter.

He lifted his head, tearing his hands away from his face. The gaze that met him was comforting, soothing.

"I need _you_ to tell me," he said desperately. Despite the resentment, bitterness and even hatred he had carried for Dumbledore all these years, there was still a large part of him that loved the man like a father and looked up to him, respected him, like he had no one else.

Dumbledore stood and closed the distance between them. He placed a hand upon Remus' shoulder and bent down agilely in front of him.

"My dear boy," he said, using the old and familiar phrase, "I cannot tell you what you want to hear. I cannot promise you that this girl, who you have obviously started to care for, will be different. I can only remind you that she is _not_ Sirius, no matter how much she resembles him. She is not a bad person. She is a young woman who has been isolated most of her life, compelled to lie about who she is, shamed into silence. She lost the only parent she knew too early in life and never knew the other except as a murderer."

Remus looked up at his old headmaster and mentor for the first time.

"I can see you are struggling with who you were and who you've become; that this girl has awakened that in you.

I can only say that this is a good thing, Remus.

You have cut yourself off from others for too long. You've not allowed yourself to feel anything close to friendship for anyone in a very long time.

I don't think James, Lily or Peter would have wanted that for you. In fact, I am sure, if they were in your place, that they would have embraced this young woman, despite her father's actions, because he was once a part of their lives, and what he did, no matter how deplorable, doesn't erase all the good memories, because they were genuine. They were real."

The tears he had been fighting back escaped, and before he was aware of it, they were streaming freely down his cheeks. He knew Dumbledore was right. He couldn't dismiss those seven years, because they had been the best years of his life, and Sirius was part of the reason why. The anger he felt towards the man in Azkabahn, though genuine and deep-rooted, was for the man he had chosen to be, not the boy he had been. That boy, the one who didn't run when he learned Remus' secret, the one who worked tirelessly for years to become an animagus just so Remus wouldn't have to be alone during the full moon; that boy – Sirius, Padfoot – that was the one he longed to remember.

Remus left Hogwarts later that night and went back to his rented room at the Inn, feeling as if a weight had been taken from his shoulders.

There was a sense of hope within him for the first time since holding baby Harry in his arms nine years ago. Back then, seeing the tiny life that his friends had created made him feel that there was something worth fighting for, even as the war raged around them and those they knew were dying, and though Kali was far form being an innocent child, she was still not fully formed. She still had a chance.

For the first time in many years, even though he would still be alone, Remus looked forward to Christmas Day.

* * *

I tried to fill insome blanks concerning the mother - grandmother dynamic, though there will be more to come...

Coming Soon: a lonely Christmas (or maybe not!), a new start and secrets revealed (oh my!)

Reviews, constructive criticism and suggestions welcome!


	7. Chapter 7: Repercussions

Hello Again!

This chapter is basically a continuation of the last, when you read it you will understand.

**rockstar-101:** Thanks for your consistent feedback, it's really nice to know someone out there enjoys the story as much as I enjoy writing it. Though Harry is only nine, you won't have to wait too long until he and Sirius (and others) show up. This year is important to establish the OC, but after certain events unfold (as long as I stick to the plan), the story will skip ahead a few years.

**Disclaimer:** The usual...

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 7: Repercussions**

By the time Celestia arrived home, Kali was safely in her room, dressed and ready for bed. After hearing the front door slam shut (never a good sign), a bang on her bedroom door startled her.

"¡Dejame entrar!" Celestia demanded in a low, dangerous voice.

Kali reluctantly lifted the spell that barred her door and allowed Celestia to enter. The scowl on her face and the language she spoke told Kali she'd crossed the line.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" she yelled, adopting her mother tongue.

"Don't worry," Kali answered cheekily, choosing to answer in English, "No one saw me Disapparate." She knew that was the least of Celestia's concerns, though it was, technically, illegal.

"You know _exactly_ what I mean." Celestia gave her a look that was meant to destroy her confidence.

She wondered whether Mr. Malfoy had told her anything about their conversation but stopped abruptly. Though she was proficient at Occlumency, she always found it difficult to block Celestia out of her mind.

"What are you afraid he told me?" her grandmother asked calmly in Spanish.

_Fuck._

Celestia raised a brow and stared at Kali with venomous eyes.

When she was a small child, that look would almost always reduce her to tears, but she learned to master herself over the years and, as her own power grew, she feared Celestia less and less. Her grandmother knew this but adopted the look anyway, furiously trying to break into her mind.

Kali, ever resourceful, started concentrating on a fictitious scenario, aware that Celestia would succeed any minute.

A few seconds later, the master Legilimens was accessing her recent memories.

She saw Kali, sitting opposite Lucius Malfoy, as he asked her about school. Then she saw the tall man stand up unexpectedly and move across the room, taking a seat next to her granddaughter. He continued asking about Beauxbatons (did she enjoy classes, what were her favourite subjects) while he ran a hand up her thigh.

Kali felt what she thought was a hard shove, before realizing that Celestia had left her mind. She swayed slightly as her knees threatened to give way, but she quickly regained composure.

The witch grimaced at her, and looked suspicious.

"Is that really what happened?" she demanded, eyes narrowed.

Kali smirked, despite the effort to keep her face neutral.

"You ungrateful girl!" she yelled, realizing the memory was false. "I sat through that meal with those insufferable twits for you and this is how you repay me!"

Kali let the smirk linger but did not answer. This time she allowed her to access her thoughts.

_If you only knew, Granny._

Celestia glowered at her. She loathed Kali's ability to alter her thoughts and memories with little effort, and she hated being reminded she was, indeed, a grandmother. For a moment, Kali was sure she would receive a stinging hex (Celestia's favoured physical punishment) but the older woman seemed to calm, and adopted a different tone.

"No matter," she said silkily, "Lucius knows enough about you to take what you say with a grain of salt."

Kali busied herself with rearranging her pillows for bed and, still, said nothing.

"Well, if this is your attitude, then I think I'll leave here tomorrow while I visit old friends. I don't want to have to drag you along."

Kali made no sign of acknowledgement. Celestia swept out of the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her. The sense of satisfaction she had been nurturing from the moment she left the grounds of Malfoy Manor was gone now, replaced by feelings of uncertainty and dread that usually followed a row with her grandmother. She knew she would pay for her actions and hoped it would only be a Christmas alone in a dusty house. Her stomach rumbled loudly, reminding her she hadn't eaten – only pretended to.

After barring her door once more (out of habit), she climbed into bed, suddenly tired and, trying to ignore the dull ache in her stomach, she fell asleep.

The next morning, Kali awoke to an empty house. She was secretly relieved, though she felt the sadness of another Christmas without her mother. She noticed a small stack of presents at the foot of her bed, and with a childlike sense of curiousity, she grabbed the first on top of the pile and quickly unwrapped it. A multicoloured bracelet, a present from Sebastien, glittered in the box. A tiny tag told her it was a 'Stress – Relieving Charm Bracelet: Good for calming nerves before tests, exams or anxiety – inducing situations.' Slipping it on, she felt a sense of calm come over her instantly. She smiled to herself, thinking of her friend, and placed it back in the box. Next she grabbed another carelessly wrapped package, obviously from Olivier. The present, a bookthat looked Indian in origin (but was written in English), turned out to be, upon further inspection, a muggle sex manual, complete with detailed – and graphic – illustrations. As she flipped the pages with growing incredulity, a note fell out.

_Chere K,_

You said you wanted to expand your mind. Enjoy! (Perhaps the professor will enjoy it, too.)

_Avec Amour,_

Olivier 

She slammed the book shut, shaking her head, amused by Olivier's sick sense of humour, and put it aside. There were only two other gifts, one from the kindly wizard who helped her mother years ago, the usual package of sweets, and another smaller box that had no card or tag. She knew it wasn't from Celestia; she never gave her anything, not since her mother died.

Though her grandmother never said it, she missed Dahlia as well, and had ceased celebrating Christmas (the only time mother and daughter where guaranteed to see her) since she died four years ago. Kali knew this, but it didn't make her loathe her any less. In fact, she hated her more for what she saw as hypocrisy on her grandmother's part.

Kali carefully unwrapped the package and opened up the small box, tentatively at first, then forgot her suspicion as her eyes rested on a diamond – encrusted _fleur de lys_ pendant dangling from a platinum chain. She almost touched it but stopped herself, remembering what her mother taught her about 'constant vigilance'. She examined the box, but it bore no markings, and, unable to figure out where it came from, she closed the box and shoved it into the bottom of the drawer in the table by her bed.

She padded downstairs quietly (though it was unnecessary), finding a small sack of gold on the kitchen table and a note that simply read, 'For Food'. The ache in her belly very prominent, she hurried back to her room to dress, and then realized, as she rifled through her rucksack, she had nothing warm to wear. She entered her closet, only to exit in disappointment moments later, as nothing fit. The last time she was in this house she was eleven, skinny, and flat, and all the clothing reflected that. Desperate, she put on a faded tee shirt from her bag (which, curiously, belonged to Olivier), and pulled on a tiny jumper, which stretched just enough to fit but not enough to look like it was supposed to. She wore the same trousers from the night before, and decided to wear her mother's old winter cloak that still hung in the front closet by the door.

Looking like she'd dressed in the dark -- and looking rather unfestive and gloomy -- and headed out in search of food.

As she walked towards The Leaky Cauldron, which was always open on holidays, a group of caroling muggles past her, singing as they went. She rolled her eyes as she tried to avoid being swallowed up by the merry crowd, and as she pushed through them rudely, the smallest, a young girl about five, stopped in front of her and said, "Merry Christmas, Miss," and handed her a little chocolate man wrapped in red and white foil.

Kali looked down at the sweet confection, the first bit of food she'd had for a day, unwrapped it and shoved it crudely into her mouth.

_Merry Christmas, indeed_.

* * *

I know this chapter is shorter than the usual, but it's not meant as a filler. Really. 

Just a note: Celestia is speaking to Kali is spanish, something she does when she is angry, upset, etc.

To translate, '_Dejame entrar' _means 'Let me in!'

**Coming Soon:** Chapter 8: (tentatively titled) Everything Old is New Again

The next chapter (almost done) will bring our Remus into the new year - and into trouble (of all kinds!)

If you've read this far, you may have an opinion. I'd love to read it.

Constructive criticism, opinions, and ideas are welcome!


	8. Chapter 8: Everything Old is New Again

Hello all!

This chapter was a difficult one, as I had to make definite decisions about which way the story would go...

I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything (not even a pot to...)

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Chapter 8:** Everything Old is New Again

_London_, January 1990.

It was the second of January, and days before the start of a new decade, London was hit by heavy storm and the bone – chilling wind had lingered into the New Year. The Leaky Cauldron was almost empty, save for a few witches and wizards, trying to warm up from the cold.

Remus sat at a table by a large fireplace, waiting for his order. He hadn't expected to visit the city this trip, but an owl from an old _friend_, and a newly adopted outlook on life had compelled him alter his travel plans before heading back to France.

"I've missed you," said Hestia Jones, as she looked at Remus with dark, wide eyes.

He immediately felt that maybe, just maybe, agreeing to meet his old girlfriend (in fact, his last girlfriend) for a drink may have been a mistake.

"Thank you," he responded, unsure what to say.

She looked at him incredulously for a moment.

"Haven't you missed _me_?" she asked, batting her lashes and sounding hurt.

"I have." He felt compelled to lie out of politeness.

She beamed. He instantly felt guilty.

Remus had seen her on Christmas day in Hogsmeade. She was visiting family and stayed at the Inn for the night. Their first meeting had been typical of the awkwardness of former lovers, full of short, vague questions and one – word answers, so he was surprised when she owled him the next day. He was even more surprised with himself when he accepted her invitation to 'catch – up over drinks'.

"It's been so long," she said after a long silence, even though she had said it twice since he sat down.

He decided to end the awkwardness and ask her the most casual, non – committal question he could think of.

"So what have you been up to?"

In return, he received every detail for the past five years. In addition to her own life, she informed him about the goings on of their classmates, including bits about people he didn't remember or never knew. He wondered, as she droned on for forty-five minutes, if she had always been _this_ vapid, and if she had, why he hadn't noticed it. She was still speaking when Tom, the barman, placed the third pint of butterbeer in front of him.

"…and they got married just last year, it was such a beautiful wedding…"

As optimistic as he tried to be, he found he really didn't care about the old crowd. Just as he was about to make an excuse to leave, he saw a small, familiar figure walk through the pub and head towards the entrance to Diagon Alley.

_What's she doing here?_

"…Don't you think? Remus?"

He snapped back to the rosy – cheeked woman in front of him and realized she was addressing him.

"Uh, yes," he answered uncertainly. She didn't seem to notice.

"I'm so glad you think so, too," she said, a smile of relief on her face as she reached over to stroke his hand.

He stiffened.

_Oh, bollocks, what have I just agreed to?_

"I know it will be a little difficult for the next few months but once the school year is finished, you can move back."

"What?"

"Well, you didn't think I was going to move to France did you?" she asked, giggling.

_Oh, shit_.

His mind raced as he frantically tried to recall the conversation he only half – listened to. He drew a blank.

"I was thinking Hogsmeade would be a nice place to live, my aunt loves it there…" She began talking once more, without noticing the look of horror on Remus' face as he realized he'd done it again.

The hopeful, expectant feeling he had been nursing since Christmas had all but evaporated as he desperately tried to recall how _exactly_ he had reconciled with Hestia once more.

At Hogwarts, she'd been the second girl he'd ever dated, on the rebound from his first love, Jillian Minkus. Then she was the third. Then the fifth. He would break up with her and always end up 'giving it another go', even though he really didn't want to. He finally rid himself of the habit in sixth year (with a little help from his friends), only to reconcile with her after the war. He had needed someone and she was there, a shoulder to cry on, a sympathetic ear. They lasted three years that last time, until, frustrated by the lack of opportunities for a werewolf (and desperate to get away from anyone tied to the past) he left suddenly to find work abroad. That time, he broke up with her via note.

He suddenly realized he'd have to do it again. Now. In person.

Just as he was about to interrupt Hestia, he noticed a tall, pale figure, once more familiar, yet disconcerting, make his way to Diagon Alley. A feeling of foreboding hit him.

"Hestia," he interrupted, jumping up suddenly, "I just remembered, I'm going to be late for my train."

She looked at him skeptically.

"I thought your train didn't leave for hours?"

"No, no, very soon," he responded, tapping his watch for emphasis.

"Well, I'll see you off," she said, smiling, "that way we'll have some more time to talk about us."

He blinked rapidly, trying to wrap his mind around the '_us'_ in her statement, and knowing he had to make things clear to her but anxious to get away.

"I'd really like that," he said, thinking quickly, "but I just remembered, I have to pick up a book in Diagon Alley and, uh, I've got to go quick!"

"Okay," she said, still skeptical, but Remus didn't care at the moment. He was desperate to get away from his once former girlfriend.

"I'll write you," he said, attempting a smile. She seemed to accept this and rose to kiss him. He returned a hurried kiss and ran off towards the alley, never looking back.

He sprinted towards the entrance to Diagon Alley, tapped the bricks and walked through the opening just as Lucius Malfoy rounded a corner. The training from his days with the Order of the Phoenix came back to him and he immediately began to follow the former Death Eater stealthily. Malfoy peered through storefront windows as if looking for someone and Remus' fears were realized as he spotted Kali entering Knockturn Alley, Lucius trailing behind her.

_What does he want with her?_

Remus watched as Kali, almost unrecognizable now with the hood of her heavy, black cloak pulled over her long, raven hair, turned into Borgin and Burkes. Lucius slowed and slipped in moments later. Remus felt anxiety tugging at his insides. He walked to the storefront and peered in the grimy window. Kali was at the far end of the counter engaged in conversation with one of the proprietors (he couldn't tell which), while Lucius skulked in a corner just behind her and out of sight. Just then, a small group of witches strode past the shop, pausing at the door. This gave Remus enough cover to slip in unseen. As the witches moved on, the noise of chatter died away and he listened intently for any sliver of conversation from Kali and the old man behind the counter, while he edged closer up the aisles.

"…Did you sell it?"

"No, miss."

"Have you seen it before?" she demanded.

Remus made his way through a narrow aisle and spotted Lucius Malfoy hidden behind a large, banged up dresser, a curious look on his face.

"Can't say I have, miss, but maybe you'd be willing to part with it?"

"No," he heard her answer with conviction, " I don't think I will. Thanks for nothing."

Remus ducked as Kali passed the aisle in which he hid, and stormed out the door.

He was curious to know where she was headed next and was prepared to follow Malfoy out the door, when he heard the familiar, refined drawl.

"Nice work, Borgin, do you chase all your customers away or just the pretty ones?"

"That one's got an attitude."

Remus inched closer up the aisle.

"Do you know who she is?"

"Should I?"

"That, my dear man, is Celestia del Fuego's granddaughter, Kali del Fuego."

He could see the old man's face, looking stricken. He said nothing.

"You should have accommodated her. You know how those women can get."

Borgin scowled but looked worried. "If she wanted to know about the piece, she should have asked nicely."

"Well, it must have been a valuable _piece_ if you wanted to get your hands on it." Remus knew Malfoy was fishing for information.

"It's the finest piece I've seen in a while, quite a rare French goblin – crafted antique," Borgin responded, a greedy look in his eyes.

"And where would one find a piece like that?"

Borgin looked puzzled for a moment. "Must be from one of the shops in Paris".

"In the Rue Rocaille?" he asked, naming the equivalent of Diagon Alley in Paris.

"Uh, suppose so," Borgin answered uncertainly. "But, sir," he hesitated, "you didn't give it to her?"

"Lower your voice, man!" Lucius hissed, looking around wildly at the few customers in the shop, then whispered, "Why would you assume that?"

Remus could see the pale man's reflection in the glass – front cabinets behind the counter.

Borgin, not wanting to offend his wealthy customer, chose his words carefully. "Well it's quite expensive and…"he trailed, obviously flustered by the murderous stare Malfoy fixed him with.

"Spit it out!" Lucius hissed once more.

"It's a powerful and dark object," he whispered, "one that controls the person who wears it."

Remus felt a pang of fear for his young student. Through the reflection, he saw a look of worry come over Malfoy's face. He turned suddenly without a word and strode quickly out the door, as the old man called after him, "she should've sold me the necklace!"

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Kali lingered by the bar of The Leaky Cauldron, checking the time on the oversized clock. It was hours until her train departed for Dover, where she would brave the muggle ferry to Calais, then travel to Paris and back to school. Her trip to Knockturn Alley had been fruitless and she had nothing to do to wile away the time except satiate her growing curiousity.

She knew she was being followed. She had spotted her stalker in the reflection of the glass – front cabinets at Borgin and Burkes, lurking in the aisles, though, in truth, she'd felt she was being watched almost immediately upon leaving the house. She was curious to know why and what he wanted from her, though, perhaps, she thought, she already knew. So she waited.

Kali looked around the pub and noticed the empty table where Professor Lupin sat only a short time ago holding hands with a dark – haired woman. She wondered briefly who she was, where he'd gone, and if he'd seen her, when a voice from behind her startled her out of her thoughts.

"Miss del Fuego, what an unexpected delight to see you."

It was her stalker. She turned, adjusting her features to convey surprise. Lucius Malfoy stood towering over her, a smile, rather more like a leer, spread across his pale, pointy face.

"Mr. Malfoy," she stated, nodding a hello.

"Please," he drawled, "call me Lucius. What brings you here?" he asked.

"Just getting a few things for school," she answered vaguely, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Would you join me for a spot of tea?" he asked, looking around at the half – empty room.

"I've a train to catch."

"Now?"

"Not for a few hours," she admitted, feigning reluctance.

"Then I insist," he said, and flagged down the barman who directed them to a private salon.

They were seated at a table by the fire, its burning embers slowly dying away. Malfoy ordered a pot of tea, and they were left alone. She removed her mother's cloak, heavy and damp from the snow. His eyes lingered over her tiny jumper, too tight around her chest, just long enough to make her feel uncomfortable. She hated being made to feel uncomfortable.

"Did you have a lovely holiday?"

A sudden urge seized her.

"That's not really what you want to ask me, is it?"

His face fell. "Excuse me?" he drawled.

"You _want_ to make small talk?" she asked sarcastically.

"I'm observing the niceties of conversation." He retorted, obviously annoyed.

"You mean the bullshit."

His eyes narrowed, as if trying to size her up.

"You really are your mother's daughter, aren't you?" he said smugly.

"And what would you know about it?" It struck her that he mentioned her mother and not Celestia.

"More than you know," he answered silkily.

"Tell me," she said in challenge.

She caught him off guard, and a wall seemed to fall away from his eyes. It was a subtle change, but Kali could read it well and knew she was about to get some version of the truth – as much truth as a Death Eater could manage, anyhow.

"I was well acquainted with Dahlia," he said, "the last few years of her life." There was a sad note to his voice, though Kali doubted it was genuine. She became aware of the anger she'd felt toward him Christmas Eve as it rose up like a venomous snake. She wanted to make him squirm.

"She was your mistress, your whore?"

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, still managing to tower over her from a seated position, a haughty expression on his face. "I imagine it is quite distasteful for you to think of your mother involved with a married man, but I assure you, there was more to it than that. She was a confidante, a friend."

_Why the hell is he telling me this?_

"Next you'll tell me you loved her," she scoffed.

"In a fashion, yes, I did." She imagined he loved everyone 'in a fashion'.

"So, what am I to you, a potential replacement?" She looked him dead in the eyes. "Or am I the consolation prize?"

_If that's what you want, look somewhere else, you bastard!_

"You have quite a suspicious – and nasty – mind." He was stern, though there was a hint of awe in his tone.

"Like you said," she answered, leaning in to match his stance, "I am my mother's daughter."

"No, I would say you are more like your grandmother."

"Suspicious and nasty," she reiterated.

"Exactly," he answered her, without missing a beat.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, each observing the other with detached interest, as the barman entered and placed the teapot and two cups and saucers on the table between them.

"I want to show you something," he said when Tom left the room once more.

"What?" she asked tentatively.

_What makes you think I want to see it?_

"Come with me," he commanded as he stood and offered her his hand. The small voice in her head became louder.

_Are you mad? He's a Death Eater!_

She hesitated.

_He's just like your father._

She took a sip of tea, trying to dampen the voice of reason.

_He's just like Celestia_.

It didn't work.

_Run. Now!_

"Will you come?" he asked, softening, his hand still outstretched.

Curiousity won out over reason. Rising slowly, she placed her small hand in his, and allowed herself to be lead out of room and to the Alley.

"I think it's best if we Apparate from here," he said, turning to her when they reached a deserted spot.

She looked at him uncertainly. "Where exactly are we going?" She felt the thrill of fear creeping up inside her.

"To the other side of town," he answered. "I assure you, you are safe with me."

_Yeah, right._

"Shall we?"

She nodded and locked her arm with his. She immediately felt a pull at her navel, then the familiar squeeze. It was over instantly with a pop and she was standing in a large room – a sitting room.

She pulled away from him and looked around. The furnishings were draped with white linens and the curtains were pulled closed on the all the windows.

"This," he said, walking to the middle of the room, "was your mother's flat."

"Your love nest," she said sarcastically, realizing what it was.

He grimaced slightly, as if he found the description distasteful. "A refuge," he corrected.

She ignored him and instead, walked around the room, then down a tiny hall, opening each door as she went. Each room was draped in white and a thick layer of dust blanketed everything, telling her the flat had been uninhabited for a long time, probably since her mother died. She felt him trailing her and watching her openly.

"It's in there," he said, as she opened the last door. She was puzzled for a moment but realized what he meant when she stepped into the room. It was the master bedroom and everything was blanketed like the rest of the flat, save for a dresser. On it sat her mother's jewelry box, the one given to her by Celestia when she was a child. She walked up to it and ran her hands along the engraved wooden box, the familiar feel of the dips in the grain stirring up nostalgia. She stared at the lid, getting lost in the pattern.

"I know it's an heirloom," Lucius said behind her. She had almost forgotten he was there.

"Yes," she said softly, trying to hide her emotions. The box was more than that. It held secrets and though she didn't know what was hidden inside, she knew how to access them.

"It's yours," he whispered. He was standing close to her. She could feel his breathe on the top of her head.

Kali opened the box. The red velvet lining glittered with gold chains, silver bangles, diamonds and pearls. She smirked.

"Is this to replace what you've taken?" she asked, as she turned to face him, aware he had quietly slipped the box with the fleur De Lys necklace out of her pocket just before they Apparated.

He looked surprised and remained silent.

"Well?" she demanded.

He pulled the box slowly from his pocket and held it out. When she reached for it, he pulled it away.

_Asshole._

His brows shot up, taken aback by the sudden appearance of the thought she'd forced into his head. "I did it for your own good," he said scornfully, obviously flustered. "Do you know who it's from?"

"Do you?" She shot back rudely. She was losing her patience and suddenly wanted to be gone from this place.

"I don't," he said firmly, "but I could help you find out who wants to control you."

"Excuse me?" she asked. It was her turn to be taken off guard.

"It's a dark object, my dear, used to control, subdue, dominate," he explained.

_What the fuck?_

She backed away instinctively but felt the dresser behind her.

_Who the fuck would do that?_

"I can assure you it wasn't me," he answered, as if reading her thoughts (though it was now impossible). The fear gripping her now had lost its thrill, leaving her shaken by the realization that someone had targeted her She was suddenly very aware that she was standing in a flat with a once -- and probably still -- vicious Death Eater. Alone.

He saw her tense and backed away, placing the box on the bed and sitting down at the foot of it.

"Someone obviously wants to hurt you, or use you somehow," he said in a cold, casual tone, as he surveyed his fingernails with interest.

Kali knew he was going to make her beg for help, a punishment for suspecting him (even though it was a logical conclusion) and for being flippant and rude (even though it was a natural reaction). She loathed the thought of it but knew if she wanted to find the culprit, she had no other choice. She swallowed hard and did the last thing she thought she'd ever do. She asked a Death Eater for help.

He looked up from his nails, his cold, gray eyes twinkling with a look of triumph. He stood and closed the distance between them.

"Of course, my dear," he said softly as he ran his fingers down her face and lifted her chin, "it would be my pleasure."

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Miles away, on the other side of London, Remus Lupin slumped back into the Leaky Cauldron, his heart heavy with disappointment. After losing Lucius Malfoy in the alley, he had made his way back to the pub when he spotted him once again, leading Kali by the hand. As they Disapparated, side – by –side, Remus cast a tracking spell, and Apparated a safe distance behind them. He then followed them to a non –descript apartment building and watched anxiously as the Death Eater lead Sirius' daughter up to a flat. He waited for a while, hoping she would come back out quickly – and alone – but as the minutes ticked by, hope dwindled. He finally gave it up as a bad job, and headed back to Diagon Alley to pass the time until the next train to France.

As he plopped himself onto a stool at the bar, his thoughts kept drifting back to Kali and what she might be doing, at that very moment, with a man as deplorable as Malfoy. He shuddered to think of the obvious but could not keep it from his mind. The infamous Del Fuego reputation and Cyrus McShane's words came back to him – 'she's earning it.' He thought about Sirius as a teenage boy, lead by his raging hormones and unfettered by his utter lack of morals, and came to the conclusion that her behaviour was inevitable.

_She just can't help it._

It made him sad to think it, and even though he wasn't sure he believed it, the thought made it easier to bear.

As he sipped half – heartedly on a shot of firewhiskey, he tried to clear the images plaguing his mind.

"Remus?"

The familiar, cheery voice roused him from his mind. He turned around and came face – to – face with Hestia once more, but instead of feeling caught or trapped, another less familiar, wholly neglected feeling came over him. Without a word, he pulled her closer and kissed her passionately.

She giggled when he pulled away. "I thought you had a train to catch?" she asked, a look of mild confusion on her face.

"I did, but there's another one later," he lied, ignoring the barman's amused stares.

"How did you know I'd come back?" she asked naively.

A pang of guilt came and went, chased away by a bolder feeling.

"I hoped," he answered softly in her ear.

He needed desperately to numb the old, familiar pangs of pain and despair. He kissed her on her pink cheek and, still holding her close, whispered, "let's get a room."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yes, this was a long one. I got carried away with dialogue. I especially liked writing the stuff between Lucius Malfoy and my OC (there was so much more I cut out!)

I'm moving on with the next few months fairly quickly and then Sirius will poke his tortured head into the story, but not before throwing in a wrench or two...

Coming Soon - Chapter 9: (tentatively titled) A Tangled Web

Please take the time to review. Thanks!


	9. Chapter 9: A Tangled Web: Part 1

**Hi Again!**

I know it's been awhile since my last update. Sorry!

This chapter was like pulling teeth. I hope it doesn't suck too badly.

(Now you _really_ want to read it, don't you.)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. I mean nothing. Seriously.

Oh, BTW, this chapter is in two parts (one of which is still in my head).

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Chapter 9:** A Tangled Web: Part One

Deception was a curious paradox for Remus.

On the one hand, he had been taught by his parents from an early age to deceive and keep secrets. These lies, he was told, were the only way to ensure his safety from those who would fear and persecute him if they knew the truth.

On the other hand, his parents had always demanded honesty from him. They also constantly emphasized the importance of being honest with those he trusted. The problem with that logic was, of course, that he had to lie to everyone and as a result, could never fully trust anyone.

Though he lived his life by this concept, he abhorred lies. If it was necessary, he lied; otherwise he tried to be as honest as possible – at least to himself.

Perhaps this was why he had been so plagued with guilt since the New Year.

All the years he'd known Hestia Jones, he had lied to her. In the beginning, he did it out of habit, having never told anyone about his 'furry little problem' except for his James, Peter and Sirius (and only then because they had figured it out themselves). Afterwards, he did it out of fear. He didn't want to be alone after his friends' deaths and knew the truth would frighten her away.

But past lies he could live with. It was the others he knew were much more destructive.

The guilt and shame, compounded with every passing day were, unfortunately, feelings he had always associated with women, but the sense of unease he had been harbouring since his return from England was reserved especially for this his former girlfriend. And now, as he looked down at her latest letter, reading it over once more, he knew the truth was overdue.

_My Dearest Remus,_

_I know I've been hinting about a surprise in my last few letters but I'm bursting to tell you. I have found us the perfect little cottage in Hogsmeade! It's on the edge of town and boasts one of the best views of Hogwarts Castle. It's small – but it is only the two of us for now. I just know you'll adore it as I do._

_I've heard from a friend that the DADA teacher at Hogwarts will be retiring at the end of this school year. I know Dumbledore liked you as a student, perhaps he would consider you for the post. I know people say the job's cursed but I don't believe it. If you got the job it would be perfect!_

_I feel as if fate has stepped in to bring us together once more. And to think, I almost didn't go to my aunt's on Christmas!_

_We're so lucky to have found each other again. I miss you, my darling._

_Till we meet again, all my love,_

_Hestia_

_P.S. When can you come to see the house? The sooner, the better. Let me know_.

He folded up the letter hastily as Cyrus McShane took a seat next to him at the large round table in the staff room. The last thing he wanted was the old man to start prying into his personal life, something he'd been doing with alarming frequency.

"How goes it m' boy?" the old man greeted him, tapping him on the back.

Remus merely nodded and turned his attention to the headmistress. Ever since his talk with Dumbledore, he had avoided McShane as much as he could, aware of how dangerous he could be.

The headmistress addressed the staff with unusual gravity, informing them of changes to policy introduced by new members of the Board of Governors. They included a new, strict policy on what members of the board had dubbed 'Undesirables' – students who habitually disregarded the rules. As Remus listened, a feeling of disgust came over him. He knew that the policy was really just another form of prejudice invented to target students who didn't fit the mold. He immediately thought of Kali.

The headmistress went over the staff assignments for the next free day for the students, and handed out a list of names. Remus scanned the page and saw Kali's name on the list, along with one of her friend's, Olivier Demarchelier.

McShane, perceptive as ever, whispered, "Haven't heard?"

As Madame Maxime continued, Remus, curious, turned his attention to Cyrus, looking at him questioningly.

"Seems we've got keep a close eye on the 'trouble students'," he said, smirking. Remus knew he was referring to Kali.

"Why?" he asked, ignoring the annoyed stares from a few staff members.

"Part o' the new policy – catch 'em in the act, toss 'em out," he said out of the corner of his mouth.

"Monsieur Lupeen, 'eez there problem?" the headmistress asked sweetly though she looked annoyed as well.

"Just curious 'bout a couple o' names on the list," McShane answered for him.

"I would be 'appy to answer questions after 'ze meeting," she said kindly but firmly, then resumed in French.

Remus did his best to pay attention but noticed a couple of staff members (including the resident Healer Madamemoiselle Colbert) look at him then exchange knowing looks with McShane. He felt immediately unnerved.

As his fellow colleagues streamed out of the staff room after the meeting, Remus noticed the Healer whispering to the old man. Before he could get close enough to overhear any part of their conversation, the headmistress addressed him.

"I am 'oping to speak to you, monsieur," she said in her soft, lilting tone. Despite this, Remus felt like a student about to be punished.

"By all means," he answered. He followed her back to her office at the opposite end of the corridor. The sense of unease, forgotten for the moment, returned with a vengeance. He wondered if this impromptu meeting was tied to the strange looks from his colleagues as he entered the headmistress' office and sat down.

Madame Maxime, imposing in size, was, at heart, a kind, and gentle woman. Remus had seen this in the way she cared for her students. He had also seen how unbending she could be when it came to the rules. He knew she was someone who wouldn't tolerate students who continually broke them, students like he and his friends had been, students like Sirius' daughter.

He was suddenly worried for the girl, unaware that his own problems were about to be compounded.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

"Mon petite jolie chose!"

Kali turned to face Olivier as he bounded towards her down the corridor, repeating his greeting over and over in sing – song at the top of his voice. Heads turned as he enveloped her in his arms and picked her up off the floor.

"Where the fuck were you?" she snapped. She was in a foul mood after being forced to endure lunch surrounded by Celine Rocher and her cronies and Olivier's cheerfulness was grating.

He looked down at her, gauging her mood, and planted a wet kiss on her forehead. She blanched, wiping away his spittle as he laughed. "You looked like you needed a kees," he explained when she gave him a dirty look.

"Well?" she demanded.

There was a mischievous gleam in his eye.

It's a girl. It has to be a girl.

"I theenk I am in love," he said, beaming. She rolled her eyes, having heard those words uttered by Olivier many times before.

They continued down the corridor, reaching the noisy common room of their dorm, Le Maison Violet (one of six houses, all named for colours), as the older students settled in for free period. Olivier looked around at the crowd, frowning, then grabbed her hand and led her towards the boys' dormitory and up to his room on the second landing. She followed, aware of the venomous stares she was receiving from a small group of girls in the corner, the same ones who had ruined her lunch.

"Well?" she demanded as (e shut the door behind them.

He smiled innocently at her.

"Who is she?"

"Ludevine Toulouse."

"The book store girl?"

"Her father owns half," he corrected her indignantly.

She shook her head as she sat on his bed.

"'Eez there a problem?" he asked, plopping down beside her.

"I just hope you don't throw me aside for her on Friday," she said, speaking from experience. Olivier had abandoned her too many times in the past for a girl.

"And let you meet 'ze dirty, old man by yourself?" he asked, referring to Lucius Malfoy, "Never."

Kali had confided in Olivier about the necklace and about Malfoy's eagerness to help. She knew he would help without judging her and wouldn't question her, as he always respected her privacy. This made him an invaluable friend. She felt a little guilty about not including Sebastien, but was sure he would think the worst of her if he knew about her previous meeting and subsequent correspondence with a married, older man. Unlike Olivier, he was only half - French, the other half, his mother, being from London, and very aware of the Del Fuego reputation. Because of this, Sebastien had kept their friendship a secret from his family. Kali knew that eventually his family's prejudices would get in the way of their friendship – she just didn't want it to be so soon.

Kali and Olivier lay on his bed quietly. She pondered her next meeting with Lucius as she stared up at the purple canopy, finding comfort in the silence.

She thought about the last few months and the anxiety she had been feeling since finding out about the necklace and her mother. She thought about the jewelry box, safely tucked away in the bottom of her trunk, filled with tiny jars of memories she couldn't access, and she thought about the letters she'd received from her mother's lover as he informed her of his progress, especially the latest one.

_Dear Kali,_

_I have traced the necklace to a dealer in Cannes. I contacted him and he is willing to meet us in Marseilles next weekend. I took the liberty of enquiring about your school schedule and have set up the meeting for that day, as I know you are anxious to learn the truth._

_I can meet you in the village at noon. Please send word if this plan is satisfactory._

_Your servant,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

"Olivier?" she said softly, not wanting to break the peaceful lull.

"Oui?"

"Who do you think it is?" She had asked herself the question countless times, but never voiced it. The most obvious answer was Malfoy himself, but as time went on, she became convinced it couldn't be him.

Olivier, looking serious, sat up and leaned towards her.

"We will find out," he said reassuringly, knocking his forehead to hers, "and I will hurt 'ze bastard."

"And how will you manage that?" she asked, chuckling.

"Je suis le Tout Puissant Olivier!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up for emphasis in a mock strongman routine.

She rolled her eyes at his arrogance, but couldn't help but smile.

In that moment, she was happy. Optimism, like sunshine, had penetrated her armor, allowing her to feel like things would turn out well in the end, despite the bad intentions towards her, despite the Death Eater in her corner, despite how nothing had ever ended happily before. This time, she felt, was different. This time she had a plan, she had Olivier, and she had hope.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Did you hate it? (Cringes in suspense.) Let me know, if you want, just remember, wannabe writers tend to have fragile egos. You have been warned.

Just a note about the french:

Mon petite jolie choses - my pretty little thing

le Tout Puissant - the All -Powerful

**Coming Soon:** A Tangled Web: Part Two - find out what happens when a Death Eater, a Frenchman, and a Secret Black join forces to combat evil necklaces everywhere! Just joking!

The end is near for 'Undesirables' in France, find out why and what happens next.


	10. Chapter 10: A Tangled Web: Part 2

**Hi!**

As you may recall, this chapter was still in my head as of my last posting. Well, it took some poking and prodding (don't ask) but at last, I present to you, part 2.

I hope it makes sense!

**Disclaimer:** I cannot afford to own anything as brilliant as _Harry Potter_. So I don't.

**

* * *

Chapter 10: A Tangled Web: Part 2 **

The daily ritual of breakfast over, the students of Beauxbatons streamed out of the palace on a warm, sunny Saturday morning, eager to spend their day out of doors and among the unsuspecting muggles in the village.

The scent of cherry blossoms wafted through the streets, carried in by a warm breeze from the south. Remus breathed in, trying to appreciate the wonder of nature for the first time that spring. Transformation had come and gone, and though he was still quite sore from the unusual amount of damage he had done to himself during the last full moon, nausea had subsided, allowing him the tiny pleasure. But, as usual, he couldn't focus; his mind was somewhere else.

For all appearances, he was just another teacher strolling contentedly through town. Inwardly, though, he was starting to panic. He had been looking for Kali for over an hour, after losing sight of her on the path to the village from the school grounds. Unable to speak to her since the staff meeting, he needed to warn her she was now being watched.

After spending time with her discussing great works of literature, he had gained some insight into the mysterious girl. Although she rarely spoke about anything personal (he was just her professor after all), he had gained some insight into her personality through the way she related to the books he assigned. Reading 'Pride and Prejudice', she had been annoyed by Charlotte, Lizzy Bennett's best friend, berating her for "betraying her in principle", and despising Jane just as much for trying to see the good in everyone. "Maybe some of us just don't have it," she had told him, her darkened eyes saying much more than her words.

At that moment, he had seen the real girl for her for the first time. Even though she didn't make friends easily (or more likely, because she only had two), she valued loyalty above all, and though he was reminded of Sirius when her eyes lit up self – doubt, he could now see Kali as her own person, not just an extension of her infamous parents.

It was an awareness of just how alike they really were, bogged down by shameful secrets, that led him to feel a certain camaraderie with her, not only as a fellow outsider trying in vain not to stand out, but as someone who really didn't know how to – and in her case, perhaps didn't really want to – fit in.

Unfortunately, it seemed Kali, like her father, was doomed to stick out from her peers.

* * *

_Hogwarts_, 1976. 

"Sirius Black!"

Heads turned just outside Gryffindor Tower as a tall, blonde boy with a thuggish build bellowed down the corridor. Sirius, almost as tall but sinewy, stepped out from among the crowd, wand in hand.

"What's the problem, mate?" he asked in mock innocence, twirling his wand casually between his fingers.

Remus rolled his eyes. Not again, he thought as he pushed through the crowd. Sirius had been depressed over problems with his family and he did what he always did when feeling down – he looked for trouble. The latest was in the form of a very pretty seventh year, who happened to have a boyfriend.

"You think you're some hot fucking shite, don't you Black!" the pale boy yelled, his face reddening.

Remus watched with growing anxiety as Sirius merely smiled.

"She's my girl, you bastard! Stay the fuck away from her!"

"If she's your girl," he said mockingly, "then what's she doing meeting me in the bloody broom closet?" as he tossed his shoulder – length mane in haughty defiance.

Bloody wanker, thought Remus, as he and James moved to flank Sirius. He watched with horrified fascination as the veins on the boy's thick neck throbbed menacingly, knowing instinctively, as did James, what would happen next.

Sirius' grey eyes flashed with anger as the other boy moved his wand without warning and flung a spell at him. He ducked just in time, throwing back Levicorpus silently at his foe. The boy was upended suddenly as cries of laughter filled the corridor. Remus, his wand pointed instinctively towards the boy, watched in horror as the boy continued to soar towards the rafters and hit the ceiling with a loud thud. He looked to his right, startled at the sight of Sirius and James standing stock still with open mouths and pointed wands.

"Look what you did!" cried Peter between fits of giggles, as they realized each one of them had cast the same spell at the same time. The boy hung limply from the rafters, a strangled cry emitting from his beet – red face.

The crowd that had gathered in the corridor, mostly Gryffindors, buzzed excitedly as the boy's friends tried in vain to get him down. A few misfired spells hit him in the buttocks causing him yelp in pain. Sirius and James, both shaking off the initial shock, burst into raucous laughter as Remus looked on incredulously.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Professor McGonagall pushed through the crowd and stopped in front of the chortling boys. The crowd became suddenly silent.

"Oh," she said, oblivious to the boy suspended above her, "I should have expected it was you lot," she said casting a glance at Remus, Sirius and James huddled together, wands still in hand.

Several girls in the crowd giggled, their eyes on Sirius. McGonagall pursed her lips tightly, clearly unamused. Just then, a strangled cry caused her to jump.

"What in Merlin's beard was that!" she exclaimed as several students snickered.

Peter, ever helpful, pointed upwards as he shook with laughter. McGonagall followed his gaze and gasped.

"Oh my!" she exclaimed, then yelled to the nearest student, "Get Professor Slughorn. Quick!"

Staring up at the boy concernedly, she asked, "What happened?" to which the boy's friends echoed in unison, "Sirius Black!" She glared at him for a moment as he tried in vain to suppress a smile. Remus, still beside him, heard James whisper under his breath, "don't make it worse, mate."

But Sirius, who never listened to the voice of reason (or any voice but the naughty one inside his head), ignored him. "Just defending my honour, professor," he said cheekily.

McGonagall glared at him. "I doubt that, Mr. Black," she said ruefully.

"Why's that, ma'am?" he asked, his smile subsiding as his grey eyes flashed coolly in challenge.

"Well," she said, softening a little, "you must possess honour in order to defend it."

Sirius feigned shock, masking the hurt of what Remus was sure were cutting words. "I'm offended, professor," he gasped, grabbing at his chest for emphasis and causing the crowd to laugh.

McGonagall, looking severe, cast the crowd a nasty look that silenced them once more.

Professor Slughorn, the head of Slytherin, came waddling down the corridor, wand at the ready, his eyes fixed on the boy hovering above the crowd like a stray party balloon. As he passed McGonagall exclaimed, "You'll have time enough to recover with a month's detention, Mr. Black," as she led Sirius by the shoulder through the thickening crowd.

"A more fitting punishment would be to ban him from his adoring fans," commented Slughorn as he passed a throng of besotted girls.

"He's probably right," James hissed under his breath, so that only Remus could hear him.

McGonagall sighed, exasperated, and as she led him back to her office she commented loudly, "You do know how to attract a crowd, don't you?" to which Sirius answered with what his mates were sure was a grin on his face, "Can't help it, professor, I was born this way."

* * *

"Perhaps you should let me handle this." 

"Fine."

Lucius Malfoy looked at Kali a little suspiciously for a brief moment then entered the tiny back room of the antique shop. The look of disgust on his face when they had arrived at the back door in the alley behind a row of muggle shops in Marseilles told her he hadn't been there before.

Meeting her in the village only minutes ago, they had Apparated to the city, Olivier close behind them. He was tracking them stealthily, though Kali doubted Lucius didn't know. His stealth was a particular skill the other Death Eaters had envied during the war, but Olivier needed to feel useful, so she allowed him to follow and kept that fact to herself.

"Excusez-moi," he said to a short, balding man hunched over a worn wooden desk, "Etes - vous Monsieur Dalon?"

The man looked up, revealing a leathery face. "Monsieur Malfoy?" he asked in a rough manner.

"Oui."

"Then I am Dalon," he said straightening up as he smiled obsequiously, revealing a row of gold teeth.

Kali looked around the room, taking in the bleak surroundings and the various pieces scattered on rows of shelves along the walls, as Malfoy and Dalon entered into conversation. She barely listened as she examined the odd man's treasures. She noticed various dark objects placed haphazardly here and there throughout the room, many that she recognized as being illegal. As she moved around the room, she felt the antique dealer's eyes flicker towards her.

"Don't touch," he snarled, then continued his conversation with Malfoy.

"I cannot recall…"

Kali wasn't interested in any information Malfoy extracted from the man; she was sure Dalon wouldn't tell them anything willingly. Instead, she waited for a large enough distraction to do what she did best – rummage through his mind.

"I _can_ compel you to tell me who bought the piece," she heard Malfoy sneer menacingly after a steady rise in volume by both men, "but I guarantee, you won't enjoy it."

The bald man became silent. Kali turned her attention to them just as Lucius raised his wand.

"Don't," she said calmly as she rushed to his side and placed a hand gently on his forearm. He looked at her menacingly but it quickly shifted. "Let me," she answered simply, as he looked at her with skepticism. He backed away reluctantly, his eyes still firmly fixed on Monsieur Dalon.

Kali turned to face the man, whose pudgy face was beaded with sweat. "Listen," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "You need to tell us who bought the necklace." His face seemed to relax but he didn't speak.

"I was the girl it was intended for," she continued, ignoring the look of amusement on his round face as she said this, "And as far as I'm concerned, you'll do."

"For what?" he scoffed with a haughty French air.

"For this."

A tiny trickle of blood escaped from the corner of his mouth. Kali could feel Lucius Malfoy's eyes dart towards her, no doubt shocked by what happened next.

"What 'ze…"

Dalon wiped away the blood, looking down at his thumb crossly, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, his tongue began to swell to a menacing size. Kali watched with detached interest as he began to choke on the results of two elementary jinxes, each one alone nothing more than a nuisance, but together, a deadly combination.

"How is he supposed to answer the question now?" Malfoy asked aporetically as he stood behind her.

An eerie gurgling sound emitted from the balding man as he lashed about the room, trying to dislodge his tongue from inside his mouth. Blood pooled around his neck, staining his white linen shirt crimson as he choked.

"Do you have a name for us?" she asked calmly as the man slumped into a chair.

The gurgling noise stopped as his tongue slowly receded to its normal size and the soft flow of crimson ceased.

"Henri," he whispered through gasps for air, " de – la – Fa – laise."

"What!" she cried, taken aback.

The bald man whimpered, cowering at the force of the single word. She looked into his fearful eyes and suddenly, feeling sick at the sight of what she had done, unintentionally began to read his thoughts.

The image of her grandmother's 'friend', happy and leering, leapt across her mind's eye, while Lucius Malfoy's voice became distant as he pried details from Dalon.

She saw the necklace changing hands, a neat pile of galleons on the table beside it. She heard the words of a man intent on her harm ringing inside her head with glee at his "special find". She felt the muscles in her stomach tense as she saw Dalon warn him of the dangers. "She'll go mad," she heard him say, to which Henri responded, "as long as I get what I want." But Kali didn't wait to hear what it was he had wanted; she ran out the back door to the narrow alley, a convulsive feeling ripping through her abdomen and pushing the air out of her lungs.

"Kali, what's wrong?"

Olivier, who stood in a dark corner waiting patiently, rushed to her side. Her insides burning with an unfamiliar feeling, she retched at his feet without warning. She fought back the tears welling in her eyes as the full meaning of the words hit her. She felt Olivier hovering over her, rubbing small circles into her back. The caring gesture brought her slowly out of the anxiety that had seized her. She forced herself to clear her mind and by the time she heard Lucius Malfoy's familiar drawl, Olivier had cleaned her up with a flick of his wand and she had calmed down considerably.

"Are you alright?" Lucius asked with what passed as concern.

"Yes," she answered, willing herself not to show any emotion.

"Dalon has informed me about this _de la Falaise_ fellow," he said, casting a weary glance at Olivier. "Would you like me to take care of it?"

She knew exactly what he meant.

She considered it for a moment. There were so many questions she needed answered, so many doubts and suspicions clouding her mind. But she knew. She knew it was wrong to take life so casually, to end a man with a few words in dank alley. Besides, she needed to know why, if Celestia was involved, and she knew that if it came to that, she didn't need anyone to do it for her.

She straightened up, struggling for poise and looked the Death Eater straight in his cold, grey eyes.

"I will take care of it myself."

* * *

I know there are still some unanswered questions...I hope to answer them in the next few chapters, though I see this story going on and on (to OoTP and beyond). 

**BTW:** Thanks for your reviews. They mean alot.

Constructive criticism, comments and suggestions are always welcome. Just push the purple button!

**Coming Soon:** Chapter 11: (tentatively titled) Unravelled - where, as the title suggests, lives and lies start to come undone.


	11. Chapter 11: UnRaveled

**Hi Again!**

This chapter marks the end of 1989. The story will be jumping ahead in the next chapter.

(Just a note: Translation for the bits of French at the end of chapter)

Hope you like it!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the HP universe. I am not God. Or JK Rowling.

**BTW:** Thanks for the reviews!

**

* * *

Chapter 11: Unraveled **

Kali Disapparated, leaving Olivier and Lucius Malfoy standing in the alley behind the run – down muggle shops in Marseilles. Confused and angry, she was in no mood for feigned civilities with the likes of Malfoy, and feeling exposed and vulnerable, she longed to be alone. She Apparated without splinching, despite her state of mind, to the edge of the lake at the foot of the hill that housed Beauxbatons. Olivier Apparated a moment later with a pop just steps away from her.

"What 'appened?" he demanded, reaching out for her.

"I don't want to talk about it," she snapped, moving away.

"You don't 'ave to tell me," he said softly.

The guilt she'd been feeling found a new direction.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking down.

He closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders. She buried her face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. It was oddly comforting to be in his arms, to feel the safety of a familiar embrace. She pushed the last hour out of her mind and settled into him, not wanting the moment to end. A small part of her, the part she feared, longed to spill out all her secrets, though she was certain it would be a mistake.

_I can't tell him_.

Tears threatened to spill once more but she fought them back as she struggled with the words.

_He'll never understand._

She shut her eyes tightly, like an impetuous child, willing the doubt to go away.

_He'll hate me_.

He grabbed her face gently with both hands, lifting her head to meet his gaze, warm, compassionate and questioning.

_He'll never speak to me again_.

She saw the reflection of her own eyes, churning a storm of black, brown, grey in his clear somber expression. The intensity of her own reflection in the azure pools rattled her. Instinct took over and she pulled away from him, intent on flight.

Olivier dropped his hands as if to let her go but instead wrapped his arms firmly around her waist. "Don't leave," he whispered, his breath on her forehead.

"Let me go," she protested half – heartedly, too drained to fight.

Despite her protest, he pulled her closer. Bending slightly over her, he brushed his lips against hers, tentatively at first, then bolder, closing his mouth over hers. She shuddered involuntarily as she responded to the gesture, returning the growing intensity of the kiss. The buzzing in her head, like static, faded away and the world seemed to pause and mute as her body responded to his touch. She felt herself being lifted from the ground and a moment later, rough bark supported her back as Olivier leaned into her, his lips moving away from hers, allowing a breathe to pass between them.

_Don't stop_.

He trailed kisses along the side of her face, shifting his arms lower before his lips returned to hers, his tongue slipping into her welcoming mouth. She struggled to hold a clear thought as tongues clashed wildly and his hands moved lower, grabbing her thighs. He moved his hips as she circled his waist with her legs, pressing against her and awakening every nerve in her body. She let out a strangled moan, the sound of her own voice pulling her out of the fog in her head.

_We can't_.

She wanted to say the words but couldn't find her voice. She needed to stop before they went further but her body refused to listen. She became aware of her arms, hooked around his neck in desperation, her lips bruising his as one hand moved to the small of her back, fingers slipping beneath the waist of her jeans. She needed to pull away from him, but the intensity between them was too hard to struggle against. As she withdrew from his kiss, she felt the other hand slip between under the hem of her blouse.

"Stop."

She broke away suddenly, the word uttered on his lips. Eyes darting open, she felt ground beneath her feet once more. The sound of the rustling leaves and the chirping birds overhead swelled like a song in crescendo around them. Breathing heavily, she moved her hands to his chest and firmly pushed him away.

"Why?" he whispered hoarsely, a hurt expression on his face.

Kali had gathered her senses once more and she quickly searched for the right words. There had been so much she wanted to tell him, but now it seemed impossible to explain. The moment to tell him the truth had come and gone, chased away by their own libidos; how could she explain why she stopped him now? How could she tell him she needed him -- so much so, that she didn't want to ruin the bond between them? How could she admit how much he meant to her when she only just realized it herself?

"Lover's quarrel?"

Kali was startled out of her thoughts by the gruff voice. She jerked her head to the side and was met by the sight of Professor McShane, looking at them with cruel amusement. Olivier's hands were still loosely cradling her intimately and she was suddenly aware of their disheveled appearance. Olivier moved away, pulling his hands from underneath her clothes, a contemptuous look on his brow. Realizing it was dangerous to let Olivier respond (as he loathed McShane), she instinctively jumped in, eager to take the punishment.

"Can we help you with something, professor?"

The professor looked at her shrewdly, his eyes alight with an unfathomable twinkle that instantly set her ill at ease. It reminded her of the look in the eyes of a Death Eater fresh from a kill.

"The headmistress wants to see 'ya," he said, ignoring her question. "Move it."

The two friends walked through the clearing and up the path to the palace escorted by the professor, a heavy silence hanging between them. There were so many thoughts in her head that Kali couldn't focus, so instead she settled comfortably into numbness, barely noticing her surroundings. She was surprised, then, when they stopped abruptly at the headmistress' office door. McShane knocked briefly then entered, ushering them inside.

The group that greeted them threw her. She had expected the headmistress, who sat behind her desk, elongated to accommodate the others, but was hadn't anticipated the resident Healer, Mlle Colbert and Professor Lupin, much less a stranger, to be seated alongside of her. She was further perturbed by the sight of Sebastian, looking grim, seated opposite them, with Celine Rocher by his side, an arm around his shoulders as if in comfort.

"C'est elle?" asked an older, stately – looking man in royal – blue robes.

"I found them by the lake," McShane boomed behind them in rough, disjointed French", up to no good."

"Merci, professeur," Madame Maxime responded, ignoring his last comment. "Excusez – nous."

McShane blanched, but obeyed, turning to the door.

"Perhaps the others should wait outside as well," Professor Lupin interjected politely, gesturing towards Sebastien, Celine and Olivier.

She nodded. "Professeur," Madame Maxime said, addressing McShane, "si vous plait."

McShane led the others out. Olivier prodded Kali in the side and whispered, "Look," as he reluctantly left.

Kali looked over to the desk and felt an anxious jolt. An array of tiny bottles lay scattered on the desk beside her mother's jewelry box, which sat open, revealing the few pieces of jewelry she hadn't pawned in London. Suddenly Sebastien's presence made sense. Only he and Olivier knew where she kept the salves and potions she would occasionally administer to desperate students. A single thought encompassed her mind as the headmistress began to speak.

_He betrayed me. The bastard betrayed me._

"Assayez – vous, si vous plait."

Kali obeyed, sitting before the sober faces that stared at her with varied expressions. She was asked to explain why she was in possession of the items on the desk. She sat silently, unsure what to say. To admit the truth would mean expulsion and lying her way out of the situation (which she was usually quite good at) was not an option -- not with the evidence laid out before them.

"Alors la?" the stranger demanded impatiently.

Her eyes traveled over the faces in front of her with steely determination, catching tiny glimpses into the mind of each.

"I have nothing to say."

From what she had seen, she knew half the jury (for she felt like she was on trial) had already made up their minds. The other half were hovering between outrage and disappointment – the latter directed at those beside them, the former, directed at her.

Her heart sank at the realization.

Madame Maxime had always been fair and kind to Kali and she had betrayed the woman's trust over and over without a second thought. Though she didn't feel what she did was wrong, she knew it wasn't right. Professor Lupin, on the other hand, was less like a teacher and more like a friend. He had introduced her to books and ideas that challenged her notions of the world, and lately, when he looked at her, it wasn't with fear, but with respect and curiousity.

As she looked at him, she couldn't get past the solemnity in his eyes. Despite this, Professor Lupin spoke up.

"A student came to Mlle Colbert, concerned for the safety of the student body," he explained. "It seems a friend of theirs came to you and you gave them a potion that did more harm than good."

"What student?" she asked casually, hiding her growing anger. She hadn't treated anyone for over a month.

"I don't think it's wise to tell her," Mlle Colbert interrupted, "who knows what she is capable of?"

Kali, unable to keep it in, scoffed loudly.

"It seems they have good reason." The older man picked up a ring from the box set with a large blood – red stone.

"You realize this is illegal, don't you?" he asked, addressing her directly for the first time. He had a cold look to him that was oddly familiar and wholly disconcerting.

"It was my mother's," she stated matter – of – fact.

"I don't think that is the issue," Mlle Colbert said, ignoring Kali and addressing the stranger.

"Je suis d'accord," the headmistress piped in, then addressing Kali once more, asked, "C'est vrai?" The gravity of her lilting tone betrayed her unreadable mien.

"Does it really matter what the truth is?" she asked.

"Of course," Madame Maxime answered earnestly. The look on Lupin's face said differently.

"So if I told you I would never jeopardize someone's life, you would believe me?"

The ensuing silence emboldened her.

"If I told you I knew what I was doing, would you believe me then?"

"What you are doing is irresponsible!" the Healer shouted as the stranger grimaced menacingly.

"Not if I know what I'm doing," she stated.

"Vous – etes un enfant," the older man said, a cruel edge to his voice. "You don't have training, no license, nothing! Just a questionable bloodline and a bad reputation."

"Monseiur Laporte! Si vous plait!"

The headmistress called the man by his last name, a name that was all too familiar to Kali. A name he shared with his son, Sebastien.

As Kali reeled inwardly at this information, the headmistress addressed her once more.

"Je regrette," she began, but Kali didn't stay to listen. She stood up abruptly and walked out of the office. The headmistress called her name as she shut the door swiftly behind her.

Olivier, who stood waiting, rushed to her, an anxious expression making him look older than he was.

"What 'appened?" he asked for the second time that day.

She didn't answer, pushing past him as she locked eyes with Sebastien, who was waiting a little further down the hall, Celine and Professor McShane waiting anxiously beside him.

"Why?" she asked as she stopped in front of him.

"I'm sorry," he answered shakily, "I did not 'ave a choice."

"Did _she_ put you up to this?" she asked, nodding towards Celine. Before he could answer Celine interrupted.

"Don't blame thees' on heem," she slurred in a thick accent. "Eet's all you – are fault."

Kali stared at her venomously, which did little to wipe the smug look off the girl's face. Incensed, Kali resorted to the one thing Celine would not expect. She balled up her fist and, pulling her arm back with a snap, she swung at Celine's face, making contact with her nose and causing the girl to soar back in mid – air and land on her bottom a few feet down the corridor. Blood gushed from both nostrils as she shrieked with abandon and Sebastien and the professor rushed to her aid. Without a word, she turned on her heel towards Olivier and came face - to - face with the headmistress and the others.

"Now _that_ was my fault," she said, jerking back her thumb at the shrieking girl behind her.

"Vous - etes expulse!" Sebastien's father exclaimed hotly, his eyes ablaze with righteous fervour.

Kali looked at Madame Maxime, who was saddened. "Go back to your dorm and pack. You will be leaving first thing in the morning. I will contact you grandmother and let her know."

She nodded silently as she walked past the headmistress, past Olivier, who stood gaping at her and past Professor Lupin, who had a look of sadness and what she thought for a second was pride.

Kali made her way back to her room, which was (thankfully) empty. The contents of her trunk lay here and there about the room. She didn't care. Her time at Beauxbatons was over. Though she had never cared for it, she felt safe there. For her, it was preferable to living in Paris with Celestia and after learning what she had in Marseilles, she dreaded Paris even more.

_Oh, Merlin, what am I going to do?_

She lay on her bed, letting every detail swim in and out of her mind until, exhausted by the day's events, she finally fell asleep.

Her mother came to her in her dreams that night. She held her close, wrapping her arms around her in a warm embrace. She cried the tears she had been holding back for years as Dahlia rocked her gently like a child. They didn't speak, exchange a word, but Kali knew her mother believed in her.

When Kali awoke the next morning, for the briefest moment, as she hovered on the cusp of consciousness and dreams, she was in London; she was in her room, in her bed, her mother asleep in the room across the corridor. She felt content, safe. But as the haze of sleep receded, she remembered what had happened the day before, she remembered where she was, and yet, all this paled in comparison to the realization (the one she had struggled with many mornings since she was eleven) that her mother was dead. It was the worst feeling she could imagine a person could feel -- the feeling of losing someone they loved once again, for the first time, over and over.

After forcing herself out of bed, Kali tiptoed through the dorm, gathering her belongings with a few flicks of her little – used wand, and set her trunk by the door. Her robe no longer necessary, she quickly dressed in jeans and a tee shirt and headed down to the common room, her trunk hovering just in front of her.

The common room was empty, the only sound the faint crackling of logs in the fireplace as the last embers died away. Her heart sank. She had hoped Olivier would be there to say goodbye. Disappointed, she walked through the room that had been part of a place she considered home for the last five years and made her way down the corridor, where Madame Maxime was waiting.

After a brief goodbye (which included a sincere "bonne chance" and a bone – crushing hug), the headmistress led her to the front entrance, where Celestia was waiting impatiently. Kali didn't say a word and her grandmother, looking put out, didn't acknowledge her as she exchanged a few words with Madame Maxime.

As Kali took one last look around, hoping to see Olivier one last time (for she had the feeling it would be the last), she spotted Professor Lupin walking towards them.

"Madame Maxime," he said, handing the headmistress a slip of parchment, "there is an urgent message for you."

The headmistress looked at it briefly and then excused herself, bidding Kali a final goodbye as she did. As she walked past, Kali noticed the parchment was blank.

Professor Lupin introduced himself to Celestia , shaking her hand formally, then offered to see them to the carriage. Eyeing Lupin suspiciously, her grandmother accepted.

The trio walked in silence to the waiting carriage at the end of the walk. When they reached it, Lupin helped load the trunk and offered Celestia a hand as she stepped into the coach. She immediately busied herself with directions for the driver (as they were traveling by portkey one town over) while Professor Lupin pulled a book out of his robe pocket.

"I believe you left this in my classroom," he said casually as he handed it to Kali.

The book wasn't hers and she was about to protest when, catching his eye, she understood.

"Thank you," she murmured as she took it from him.

He took her free hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You will be just fine," he said to her, answering the question that had been running through her mind since she awoke.

_What am I going to do now?_

She nodded, feeling at once as if she was losing another friend. He helped her into the coach and shut the door with finality. As they pulled away from the palace, Kali felt emboldened to say, "Stay well," to which he looked shocked for a second but recovered enough to give her a smile.

As the carriage soared into the air, Kali looked at the book he had given her. It was a hardcover copy of _Pride and Prejudice_, the novel they had spent so many hours arguing passionately about. The cover was faded and the spine well – worn. She opened the front cover and read the inscription: "_For my darling boy, with love, mum_." Underneath, in skinny slanted cursive, were the words '_Property of Remus J. Lupin_' and tucked into the pages was a slip of parchment. She slipped it from between the pages and read it.

_Kali,_

_I am sorry to see you go under these circumstances. You are a fine student and a pleasure to teach. Please don't let your studies go, to do so would be to let them win. Take care and be safe._

_Regards,_

_Remus J. Lupin, Professor._

The first name caught her eye.

She vaguely recalled reading the name somewhere among her mother's belongings. She immediately forgot her troubles as she combed her memory.

By the time they reached the portkey, Kali was anxious to get back to Paris, as it was closer to London and closer to her mother's things.

She was now determined to know exactly just who Remus J. Lupin was.

* * *

I didn't know how to end the chapter (hope it's not too obvious). 

Here's the translations (the grammar is probably off - sorry)

_C'est elle?_ - Is that her?

_Merci...excusez - nous_ - thanks,...excuse us

_Assayez - vous, si vous plait_ - sit down, please

_Alors la?_ - Well?

_Vous - etes une enfant_ - You're (just) a child

_J__e regrette_ - I'm sorry

_Vous -etes expulse_ - you're expelled

**Coming Soon:** Chapter 12: untitled - in which we find a weary werewolf, a shocking headline and tough decisions...


	12. Chapter 12: Rarely Pure

**Hello once again!**

This chapter goes boldly into the future...sort of. (It takes place a year after the last chapter).

I am aiming for an update a week. Hopefully I'll keep to that (as long as there is no mental blockage).

BTW, thanks for the reviews. Just to let you know, there will be little or no translations from now on as the story has moved away from France.

Hope you like it.

**Disclaimer:** No, I'm not her. Yes, it's obvious.

**

* * *

Chapter 12: Rarely Pure **

_(A Year Later)._

_Tap – tap. Tap_.

Remus opened his eyes slowly, straining to hear a light tapping, at once familiar yet seemingly far away.

_Tap – tap. Tap_.

He turned his head towards the insistent sound. It seemed to come from the kitchen window.

_Taptaptap._

He rolled off the lumpy sofa in his tiny sitting room and stumbled to the kitchen. In the faint light of dawn, he could see a large brown barn owl flapping its wings as it hovered in mid – air, a rolled – up copy of _The Daily Prophet_ tied to its leg. Pushing the window open, he fumbled with the paper then slipped a knut from his trouser pocket (his last) and stuffed it into the small burlap sack attached to the other leg. The owl was off instantly and Remus watched as it became a speck in the distance, illuminated by the rising sun.

The scent of the countryside after the rain wafted through the open window, filling his lungs with the renewed hope of spring. Remus smiled as he looked down at the _Prophet_ in his hands. His smile faded instantly. The headline, flashing garishly in red, caught him by surprise.

**Auror Killed – Two Charged with Murder**

_Illegal healer and suspected former Death Eater, **Celestia del Fuego** was arrested early yesterday after a battle erupted in her west end London home. The former celebrated healer (and follower of He – Who – Must – Not – Be – Named) was arrested on suspicion of murder after rookie Auror, **Thaddeus Pike**, was killed while trying to break up a fight that had erupted between del Fuego and French wizard, **Henri de la Falaise**. _

_Aurors were alerted to a disturbance at one a.m., writes Rita Skeeter, special correspondent, and Pike, on the job for only a month, was sent to investigate. Neighbours say that Pike entered the house, located at 252 Wicking Lane, at about one fifteen a.m., instructing them to "stay inside."_

_It is unclear exactly what happened next, the only witnesses being the two suspects and the granddaughter of one of the accused, **Kali del Fuego**, 16. After being apprehended in the home by a team of Aurors, the Ministry has charged both Del Fuego and de la Falaise with murder, pending a full investigation._

_A Ministry official, on the promise of anonymity, spoke with this reporter, citing the confusion over just who delivered the fatal spell. "Only the foreign fellow's wand seemed to be used," the official told this reporter, "but there was evidence of more than one spell hitting the poor young chap." This has lead to speculation within the Ministry that perhaps the youngest del Fuego was somehow involved. "The girl will be held in custody until the mess is sorted out," the official told The Daily Prophet._

_This reporter has to ask, as will faithful readers, why a young man, new to the job, would be dispatched to the home of a notorious and dangerous member of the wizarding community alone. This reporter also has to wonder…_

Remus threw the paper aside in disgust, the feeling of incredulity that had been building up inside him as he read the article reaching its peak. He couldn't fathom what he had just read; yet somehow, he knew there was truth in it. A young man was dead, no doubt. That Celestia had anything to do with it was probable, but that Kali may have had something to do with it – no. He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't.

_She_ wouldn't.

Almost two years ago, he may have believed it was possible for Sirius Black's daughter to be a murderer, but now, after having known her, taught her, he couldn't see it. Perhaps that was his weakness, skimming over the darkness in people. He had seen the darkness in his classmate, his friend, but he chose to ignore it, to see past it, and when it was staring him right in the face, around it. With Kali, though, it had been different. It had taken him many months to see past the darkness and to the better part of the girl. He wasn't blinded by her beauty (as most, doubtless, were); he wasn't taken in by her innate charm. She had to work to gain his trust (though she probably never realized it), and in doing that, he learned to trust his own instincts once more.

_They couldn't be wrong. Could they?_

Remus knew what he had to do. He went to the fireplace nestled in the corner of the room and stoked the dying flames until the fire roared once more. Taking a jar from the mantle, he reached in and grabbed a handful of green powder and tossed it into the fire. The flames glowed emerald green. Sticking his head between the flames, he called out, "Professor Dumbledore's private quarters, Hogwarts Castle," and instantly he was there, green flames licking his face as he peered into the inner sanctum.

"Professor?" he asked looking around.

Dumbledore came into view dressed in a purple dressing gown, The Daily Prophet in his hands. He had a look of worry on his lined face.

"Remus, good morning," he answered, unsurprised by his sudden appearance. Even though Dumbledore had granted him access to his quarters via floo network a few years ago, Remus had rarely used it, preferring to rely on owl post for correspondence with his old headmaster.

"You've seen it," he said, nodding at the paper in Dumbledore's hands.

"Yes," he answered wearily. "I've just been deliberating on the best course of action."

"Can you help her?"

The professor looked at him as if searching for the right words. It was a look Remus was much too familiar with and it always made him suspect that Dumbledore was hiding something.

"I can try," he said, "but I'm not sure how successful I will be."

"Why?" Remus demanded. Dumbledore had rarely seemed so unsure of his abilities in the past.

"Celestia."

When Remus looked at him questioningly (though it was difficult to decipher through dancing green flames), he went on.

"I have a copy of Dahlia's will, giving me guardianship of her daughter, should anything happen to her mother, of course," he explained, "and seeing as Celestia is unable to perform that duty, I can invoke it."

"Are you?" he interrupted anxiously.

"I'm not sure it's the right course," he answered, still weary. "You see, if I do and she is charged with any infraction, I would have to excuse myself from the Wizengamot for her hearing."

"She didn't kill that boy!"

Dumbledore looked a bit surprised at Remus' words.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes," he answered firmly.

"Good," Dumbledore replied, "I agree."

"Then what can we do?" He needed to do _something_.

The headmaster looked at him, deliberating once more, oblivious to Remus' growing discomfort.

"I think," he began after a long silence, "since she will be seventeen in a week, it is best if I consult with her on the matter. I will pay her a visit in custody later today."

Before Remus could say anything, Dumbledore cut him off. "I think it's best if you leave it to me." He gave Remus a warm smile. "I know you want to help her but there is little you can do. I only hope I can do a bit more."

Remus knew what Dumbledore said was true. To even try to contact Kali would bring attention to him from the Ministry and besides, having a registered werewolf visit her would only make things worse. Still, he was annoyed by his lack of ability to help.

"Remus," Dumbledore called just before he pulled his head from the flames, "I promise you, I will do all I can."

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

"Please state your name."

"Kali Meissa del Fuego."

The young man looked up from the long roll of parchment, his quill perched above the paper at the ready.

"_Full_ name," he requested brusquely.

Kali looked briefly around the room. "That's it," she said, her eyes landing on the man in front of her.

The others at the table, two men and a woman, looked at each other knowingly. She knew they were fishing for information on her parentage.

"Mother?"

"Dahlia del Fuego."

"Father?"

"Nice try," she smirked.

"Miss del Fuego," the woman said, "we are simply trying to ascertain whether there is any living relative that can speak on your behalf." Her angular face gave her a stern look.

"I speak for myself," she answered firmly.

"Be that as it may, miss, but you are not of age," the man in the bowler hat addressed her impatiently.

"Give it a week," she replied smoothly, "it won't be an issue."

"We do not _have_ a week," the oldest man said to her, "we are here _now_." He had the look of a lion, with yellowish eyes and hair like a mane, streaked with grey. Kali disliked him instantly.

"Look, Miss del Fuego," the woman said to her, softening, "we just want to know if you have any living relatives."

"None," she lied, pushing the fleeting thought of Sirius Black out of her mind.

"All right then," she said waving to the man in the center, "continue."

The young man, an assistant, began his interrogation once more.

"Can you tell us what happened the night of April 11th?" he asked in monotone, as if reading aloud.

"No."

Each pair of eyes were on her instantly. "Look here, miss," the man who Kali was sure was named Scrimgeour said loudly, "we have no time for your games!"

"Just answer the question, miss," the other man (who she recognized as Cornelius Fudge) said as he looked at the others.

"I can't," she said, looking directly at him as she replied. Scrimgeour, incensed by her answer didn't seem to notice Fudge squirm a little in his seat and began deliberating furiously with the woman.

Kali eyed the man as he absentmindedly fiddled with his bowler hat, beads of sweat forming on his temples. She had recognized him the minute he entered the room as a frequent guest to their home when her mother was alive. As she stared at him, making him very nervous, she was aware of the Auror standing by the door watching her with interest.

"Excuse me," the Auror interrupted. He was soft – spoken but his bass voice cut across the noise of the others, silencing them.

They looked at him expectantly.

"I believe what the young lady is trying to say," he said gesturing towards Kali, "is that she cannot tell you what happened because she has been cursed to silence on the matter."

"Exactly," she said in mock exasperation.

They looked at her once more.

"Who cursed you?" the woman asked. She was the only one who had introduced herself, as Amelia Bones from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Not sure."

"Well, it had to be one of them," Fudge said, chuckling nervously.

"Could have been one of them," she said cryptically, "could have been someone else."

"Was there someone else present at the time?" Bones asked.

"Can't say."

Scrimgeour eyed her suspiciously. "Trying to create doubt are you?" he said accusingly.

She didn't answer.

"Well," Fudge piped up, "it seems a waste of time to keep asking the girl questions, doesn't it?" He seemed anxious to get away.

They got up to deliberate in the next room, leaving Kali at the table, the tall, dark man watching her from his post at the door. They were silent for a while, as she went through all the scenarios in her mind. This could go many ways for her, and she wanted to be sure it didn't include adjoining cells with Celestia in Azkabahn.

Kali looked at the Auror with a calculated look of innocence. It seemed to work, as he approached the table gingerly.

"Can I get you something? Pumpkin juice, perhaps?"

"No, thanks," she replied in a small voice.

The Auror leaned on the table. "What _can_ you tell me about the night of April 11th?" he asked, out of the blue.

_Finally._

"I can tell you that Henri was not a guest in our home that night." She paused. "Nor was he expected. Or welcome."

The Auror looked at her shrewdly. "Why not?" he asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

She deliberated, trying to assess just what she should say next.

"Eight months ago in Paris," she answered, pausing for effect, "he tried to kill me."

"Why?" he asked evenly.

"I exposed him for who he really was to my grandmother." She waited for the next question.

"And who is he?" he prodded gently.

"He's an evil man," she said shaking her head, "a pervert, a coward…"

He face became unreadable.

"Did he," he hesitated, "try to…hurt you in any way, I mean,… before the incident in Paris?"

She looked down at the table. She could feel the Auror's intense gaze on her as they sat in silence, the question lingering in the air.

She looked up but avoided his eyes. "He tried to finish what he started that night," she finally answered then returned his gaze. "That's all I can tell you." It was stated with the perfect balance of hesitance and vulnerability.

"Thank you," he said. He got up and walked to the door. "I'll be right back."

He closed the door behind him and the perpetual hum of voices just outside the door ceased, the man's low murmur replacing them.

She smiled to herself. It had worked. She had never played the victim before but she was desperate. Besides, there _was _some truth in it; she only bent it a little here and there, omitted some things, emphasized others.

_It's not **really** lying_.

She'd never had qualms about manipulating the truth before. Sure, she had pangs of guilt every now and then, but her conscience rarely bothered her. She sat alone wondering why she felt this way, finally reasoning with herself that her years at Beauxbatons had made her soft and a year away from from the influence of friends (Olivier) had done little to toughen her up.

The thought of being on her own (which, it seemed, was very probable) filled her with dread, not only for herself but also for her grandmother. If Celestia _were_ convicted, she would be alone in Azkabahn, and even though at times she hated her, Kali had to begrudgingly admit she loved her all the same.

As she sat mulling over their fate, Fudge entered the room, the Auror behind him.

"Miss del Fuego," he said, "you are free to go."

Caught off guard, it took her a minute to understand. She rose slowly, unable to voice the many questions flooding her mind and walked out of the room, ushered by Fudge, down a long corridor. She grew suspicious as they approached another door. When the Minister of Magic led her through, she asked, "Can I go home?"

"No, no," he answered hastily. "Your godfather is here for you."

_Godfather?_

Lucius Malfoy slunk out from the corner of the room and approached her. "Kali, dear, have you been treated well?"

She nodded a yes, trying to hide her surprise.

"Well of course, Lucius," the Minister said a little reproachfully, "I've seen to her myself."

"Thank you, Minister," Malfoy drawled, shaking Fudge's hand. He turned to Kali. "We should be getting on, dear, your aunty Narcissa has been worried sick about you."

She said nothing, trying to suppress a snicker, and followed him from the room. The Auror, looking grim, caught her eye. He quickly adjusted his features and gave her an earnest smile and a nod. She returned the gesture, smiling weakly, as she left the room.

Once outside the building and safely in an alley, Malfoy stopped and turned to her once more.

"How are you, really?" he asked. For a second she almost believed he was sincere.

"Confused," she said, "and apparently losing my memory, because I don't remember having godparents."

"Yes, well, I can be very persuasive." He rattled his robe pockets, which made a distinctive chinking sound.

"So I take it Narcissa isn't waiting for me with bated breath?" she asked sarcastically.

"On the contrary," he responded, "she is expecting us very soon."

She looked at him doubtfully.

"You have a better place to go?" he asked silkily, raising his eyebrows. When she didn't answer he offered her his arm.

"Shall we?"

As she locked her arm reluctantly with his, preparing to Disapparate, a single thought entered her mind.

_Oh Merlin, this can't be good._

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

_No, this can't be good._

Sirius Black listened intently from the darkness of his cell, high atop the towering structure that was Azkabahn. He looked out the small barred window and watched the sunset. Trying hard to block out his surroundings, he concentrated on the sky as the moon became visible, glimmering weakly at first, and then growing brighter in the darkening sky. He could see the reflection in the icy waters of the North Sea, which surrounded the prison on all sides. He didn't know how many nights he'd watched the moon in the sky, how long he'd been sitting in his dark, damp cell, wasting away. As clouds passed over, depriving him briefly of his only solace, the silencing spell he hadn't realized he'd cast, was broken. The familiar moans of dying prisoners reached him through the thick, stone walls and he sensed the excitement coming off the Dementors, which usually signaled another prisoner was about to perish.

Tonight, though was different. The ominous feeling created by the ghastly guards was infused with something more. Sirius knew it could only mean one thing.

_Fresh meat._

Sirius heard the familiar scraping of metal and turned towards the prison cell bars. A small delegation of Ministry members shuffled past.

"Oi!" he called to the last one, a young man who looked barely out of school. The man stopped and looked at him uncertainly, fear in his eyes. "What's going on?" he asked in a hoarse voice that startled him.

_Is that what I sound like?_

"Uh," the young man hesitated, backing away slightly as Sirius approached the bars.

A tall man with keen yellow eyes stepped in front of him. Sirius recognized him but couldn't remember his name.

"You'll be getting a new neighbour soon, Black," he said, a nasty edge to his voice.

"What'd he do?" he asked, though he really didn't care. This was the first time in many moons he had spoken to another human being.

The man, looking severe, grimaced, obviously affronted by Sirius' casual address. Despite this, he answered. "He's a killer – just like you."

Sirius felt nothing at being called what he knew he wasn't. Not yet, anyway.

"You probably know his partner – in – crime," the man added, making Sirius curious.

"Who is it?" Something told him he needed to know.

"Celestia del Fuego." The man from the Ministry scowled. "It's just too bad she escaped," he added. "The Dark Lord's two most loyal followers reunited for the rest of their miserable lives," he mocked, "would have been quite a reunion."

The man, looking satisfied, turned away and left. Sirius walked back to the window and looked up at the sky once more. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the image of a beautiful girl came to him; a girl with dark, flowing hair, a stunning smile and eyes that made him weak at the knees.

_Dahlia_.

As memories came back to him, he felt the comfort of them slowly fading and he knew the Dementors had sensed them. He quickly pushed all thoughts of Dahlia out of his mind as an unnatural chill swept over him. He fought in vain as a feeling of despair pushed its way back in. Dark clouds rolled over the starlight sky, extinguishing all light and in the darkness of his cell, feeling weak and alone, he shivered.

Miles away, in the heart of London, as Kali lay sleeping in the guest bedroom of Malfoy Manor, a sudden shiver wracked her body and woke her from a strange, vivid dream.

_Dahlia._

* * *

I'm all excited to finally be able to write in my favourite puppy's POV. Hopefully you liked it too. Let me know. A few words and a purple button are all it takes.

**Just a note: **Did anyone catch the meaning of Kali's full name? (Yes, it means something).

I took Scrimgeour's description from HPB (I mean, how else can you describe yellow eyes?) Also, the title of this chappie is taken from Oscar Wilde's _The Importance of Being Earnest_ - "truth is rarely pure and never simple." And now you know the title of the next chapter.

**Coming Soon:** Chapter 13 (tentatively titled) Never Simple - in which we leap ahead two years to a prison escape, a family reunion and yet more truths revealed.

See ya soon!


	13. Chapter 13: Never Simple

**Hi there!**

My story is moving right along, so I present to you chapter 13.

This chappie contains an explicit scene (kind of) between two unlikely characters. I agonized over whether to do it but in the end felt it fit the story/character. I hope no one hates me too much for making it happen.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any rights to anything.

**

* * *

****Chapter 13**: Never Simple 

_August_, 1993.

_Sirius Black stood deep in the Forbidden Forest, darkness all around him. He wasn't sure how he got there, but could hear someone calling his name._

_"Sirius!"_

_He wheeled around searching the darkness in vain for the source of the frantic voice._

_"Sirius, please!"_

**_Lily?_**

_He turned and Lily Potter stood by the trunk of a large chestnut tree charred black, scorched boughs hanging low._

_"Lily," he gasped. She looked the same, youthful and pretty but there was something odd. He noticed a dark stain growing larger as blood soaked through her deep blue cloak. **Oh, Lily**, he thought regretfully as he watched the colour fade from her vibrant red hair and the crimson on her belly grow._

_"Help him, Sirius!"_

_"I can't!" he cried. "It's too late."_

_James lay on the ground between them, his lifeless body twisted unnaturally. An unfathomable sadness gripped him, like a fist squeezing his heart._

_**Oh, no! James**._

_Suddenly Lily was beside him, a pale cold hand upon his cheek. "He needs you," she said. "Harry needs you."_

_He remembered why he was there. **Peter**, he thought, **Peter's going to kill him**._

_"No," Lily insisted, whispering in his ear. "Don't let that happen." There was panic in her voice._

_"I won't," he replied adamantly._

_"Then, go. Quick!"_

_"Where?" he asked, not sure what to do. He felt helpless. He was suddenly alone._

_"Sirius," another voice called to him from beyond the tree line, "this way!"_

**_Dahlia?_**

_A small figure clad in a glowing white gown darted through the trees down a well, worn path. Sirius followed, breaking into a run to keep up. The ethereal glow hovered just ahead at the edge of the forest. He ran to the clearing beyond the trees. Hogwarts Castle loomed in the distance illuminated by a bright full moon tinged green, as The Dark Mark hovered in the sky over Gryffindor Tower._

_"Save them!" she pleaded._

_"It's too late," he yelled in despair. Wracked with guilt, he sobbed._

_Dahlia moved towards him with ease, appearing before him like a spectre. She was pale with blue – tinged lips and fingernails. "It's not too late," she said, though her mouth was still. She looked at him with large, black vacuous eyes. A chill came over him and he knew she too was dead._

**_What can I do?_**

_"Save her," she seemed to whisper. "Save our girl."_

Sirius awoke with a start. Distant patches of sunlight danced across his face as he opened his eyes. He felt something nudge him gently in the side. Alarmed, he rolled onto his back and found himself looking into the black beady eyes of a Thestral. Panicking, he leapt up and backed away cautiously. The thestral snorted and walked away. It took Sirius a moment to realize where he was as he looked around.

Then he remembered.

The night before, desperate for rest and food after his long, arduous journey he'd Apparated to the edge of the forest and stumbled to a spot where dead leaves littered the ground. Exhausted, he had gathered up the leaves and laid upon his makeshift bed. Although wracked with fear and functioning on adrenaline, he'd fallen fast asleep. He had been sure no man would dare roam into the infamously dangerous spot and discover him, but as he heard the loud barks of a dog, he remembered there was one man who feared little within this forbidden place – Hagrid.

He ducked between a clump of dense bushes and crouched low to the ground. Hagrid's booming voice greeted the herd of hungry thestrals. He talked merrily to the creatures as he fed them, then rambled away minutes later, his boarhound at his heels. Letting out a breath of relief, Sirius crawled from between the thick branches and foraged for something to eat. He found a thicket of berries and picking the ripest ones, ate them greedily. After his scanty meal, he found the stream, which cut across the forest, and sat down on the banks for a drink.

As he rested, considering what to do next, random images of his pre – dawn nightmare came to him. There was a woman, was it Lily? He couldn't remember.

The harder he tried to recall the details the more elusive they became, until only the ominous feeling remained. Frustrated, he pushed it aside, and instead resumed dwelling on the only thing that mattered. He had to find a way to keep Harry safe and he needed to do it fast, before it was too late.

He had to kill Peter.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Kali walked down Wicking Lane towards home. As she approached her front garden, she spotted Lucius Malfoy, pacing the front porch, a look of disgust on his face as neighbourhood muggles passed on the Lane. As she walked up the path towards him, he noticed her and a look of relief flickered across his pointy face.

"What do you want?" she asked rudely as she ascended the steps. He was the last person she wanted to see.

"We need to talk," he answered tersely. He had the look of a stray cat about him, scratching the door to get in.

"Do we?" she asked as she unlocked the door with a key. He followed as she entered and led him to the sitting room. He didn't answer but removed his cloak with a flourish, setting it down on the back of a chair.

"Why do you insist on living among _those_?" he sneered, jabbing a pointed finger towards the front window.

"Why do insist on hating them?" she countered.

His face hardened but he ignored her. "I've been hearing things about you through Ministry circles," he started as he seated himself in her favourite chair, a black leather wingback.

"Have you?" she asked casually, hiding her annoyance as she approached him.

"There are, uh, concerns about your recent activities, and…" his voice died away as she straddled him.

"You were saying?" she whispered, lips grazing his ear. She slid her hands down his chest to his lap. An involuntary sigh escaped him. She pulled back slightly, watching with satisfaction as his haughty sneer fell away and a glazed, lusty look replaced it. His hands, resting at his sides, shot up and grabbed the back of her head and pulled her closer. His mouth assaulted hers, kissing her hungrily while her hands moved expertly, unbuckling his dragon – hide belt. He broke the kiss suddenly and looked at her with wild, unfocused blue – gray eyes as he disentangled his fingers from her hair and ripped her blouse open, revealing bare skin. The white pearl buttons scattered to the floor and the sound broke the silence in the eerily still house. She stiffened as hesitance came over her but she quickly pushed it away. Lucius seemed oblivious as his hands moved roughly over her body and under her skirt, propping her up and pushing himself into her moments later. Each moaned as they moved in unison, his tongue tasting the salt of her skin as it moved along her shoulders, down her collarbone and over her breasts. She followed his lead mechanically, nibbling at his neck and without his knowledge, breaking into his mind.

Her affair with Lucius had started the previous summer, an inevitable result of the cat and mouse game of seduction he'd played with her over the years. She didn't know why she gave in, even now; she wasn't sure why she succumbed to her basest instincts when it came to Lucius. His feigned concern for her didn't fool her. She knew what he was yet she relented, over and over. It was like an addiction. She knew it was bad for her, but she just couldn't bring herself to stop. Part of her didn't want to. It was the part of herself that she loathed.

Picking her way through disjointed memories, she barely noticed as he shuddered under her, only coming out of his mind when he moaned her name. She feigned a release and leaned against him, burying her face in his long blonde mane as the feelings of shame washed over her. They were still and silent for a few minutes until, clearing his throat uneasily, he stirred.

"I have to go," he said and she moved from his lap. He stood and adjusted his clothing as she watched. "I have to meet Cissy in town,…" he muttered uncertainly. She suppressed a smile at his uncharacteristic behaviour. It was always this way after sex, a testament more to the power of her mind than her sexual prowess. It amused her that after a year, he still couldn't figure out the fog in his head was the result of a master Legillimens – her. It probably wouldn't even occur to him, she thought bitterly, that she would be capable and that he would be so susceptible.

She followed him to the front door. He fumbled with the knob, and finally managing to open the door, stood at the threshold expectantly.

"When can I see you again?" he asked as he leaned over to kiss her, the pretense of his visit forgotten.

She moved back, gripping the handle for leverage, determined to avoid his question. "You should probably go home and clean yourself up," she said, "before you meet with your wife."

He looked down at her with piercing eyes. "Oh, really?" he asked, the characteristic sneer returning.

"Yes," she said, "you smell like sex." She took a step back and shut the door in his face.

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Remus watched from across the Lane as Lucius Malfoy descended the steps and marched angrily down the street.

"I think we should give her some time," Dumbledore said as he stood beside him, watching the Death Eater disappear around the corner.

"Yes," he agreed, "I think it's best."

They stood in awkward silence, Kali's neighbour watching them curiously from her porch as they loitered. Remus barely noticed as he struggled with conflicting emotions. He'd been in this position before but – he argued to himself – it was different now; she was an adult. Despite this, the side of him that was fiercely protective thought she was far too young to realize what she was doing and yearned to follow Malfoy and let out his inner wolf.

"She's not your student anymore," Dumbledore reminded him gently as if reading his mind, "and she's not a child." Remus decided he probably was. Making a conscious effort to block his mind, he answered.

"I realize that," he said, "it's just…Malfoy?"

Dumbledore gave him a weary smile. "Whomever she associates with is her decision, we can't make it for her."

Remus scoffed at his choice of words. "He's taking advantage of her," he said adamantly.

"You're probably right," Dumbledore responded, "but I don't think it's that simple."

"It never is with a Black," he countered, thinking of Sirius. He dwelled briefly on where he could be. Looking up, they both noticed movement at a window on the second floor.

"Perhaps it's time," said the elderly wizard.

As they walked in unison across the lane, the front door opened and Kali appeared, clad in a pair of well – worn jeans and a small black t – shirt that bore a bright yellow happy face with x's for eyes and a squiggly line for a mouth. The outfit and her fresh – scrubbed looks made her seem younger than she really was, but the hardness of her face cancelled it out.

"Where you just going to stand out there all day?" she asked, a sarcastic, playful tone to her voice.

Remus noticed that it seemed forced. Before either man could answer, the curious neighbour interrupted.

"You're back, I see," the stout woman shouted.

"Yes, yes I am," Kali answered wearily.

"We've gotten so used to the quiet 'round here," the woman said, waddling to the edge of her porch, "but I reckon it'll be like a tube station again, people coming and going at all hours." She punctuated her rant with a vicious chuckle.

Remus looked at Kali, uncertain what she would do. She eyed the woman coldly for a moment, then relaxed.

"I wouldn't want to disappoint," she deadpanned and gave the muggle a chilling smile before heading inside.

She led them into the two- story home, past the sitting room and into the kitchen. "She's a nosy one, that," she noted as she motioned for them to take a seat.

"Apparently," Dumbledore commented with a genuine smile.

Remus looked around at the sizable kitchen, secretly relieved to find it looking like most kitchens would. He didn't know what he thought he would find, but had been worried the house would be more than he could handle.

"I take it this isn't just a friendly visit?" she asked, eyeing each of them in turn. Her eyes lingered on him just a few seconds longer.

"I can only speak for myself, but I've always been a friendly sort of fellow," Dumbledore answered playfully.

She smirked.

"How are you, my dear?" he asked her more seriously.

Remus studied her quietly. There was something like shame in her eyes.

"Considering everything," she said, gesturing a little too wildly, "just fine." She looked at Remus. "How are you?" The flicker of emotion was gone.

He considered the truth but relented. "Fine," he lied.

She offered them tea, which they obligingly accepted and watched as she set about preparing it with the use of her wand. Remus looked at Dumbledore curiously, wondering why she was putting on a show.

Has he told her what I know?

"I am crap at domestic spells," she explained.

For the second time that day, Remus felt like his thoughts were being accessed. Feeling violated, he mad a conscious effort once more. He figured it was time to get to the point of the visit.

"I was hoping you'd reconsider Albus' offer," he began.

She carried a tray to the table, set it down and settled in to a seat, all the while ignoring him. "Sugar?" she asked, holding up a small silver bowl.

"It would be a good opportunity for you," he continued, unfazed, as Dumbledore helped himself to a plate of chocolate biscuits.

"How's that?" she asked tensely. He could tell she wasn't going to make this easy.

"It's a legitimate job," he said but she cut him off before he could continue.

"So working a menial job will legitimize me, will it?" she asked in an angry tone. "People will see me working in the in the apothecary and think, 'look at that del Fuego girl, her mum was a slag, her grandmother's a killer, but, oh, look! She's pushing 'round a broom and peddling second – rate potions, we must be wrong about her!'"

Remus didn't know how to respond. She had a point, after all. Fortunately, Dumbledore took over.

"You will be safer in Hogsmeade," he told her patiently.

"Why?" she asked, suddenly suspicious. Remus did not want to answer and waited for the old man to continue.

"The Ministry is planning to search your home."

"Yes, I know," she said in a small voice, "I've been told me as much." She stared down into her cup of tea.

"What else did Lucius tell you?" the headmaster asked her bluntly.

Kali gave a sad smile. "He doesn't know where Black is," she said, "and if he did he wouldn't tell me. We're not mates and I'm not part of his little club."

"There was never any doubt," Dumbledore said quickly. Remus longed to ask her just what exactly Malfoy was to her, but fearing the answer, remained silent.

"He knows, doesn't he?" she blurted suddenly, dark eyes widening.

Dumbledore reached across the table and placed a hand on hers while Remus, feeling ill for so many different reasons, sat mute.

"Yes," he said soothingly, "he may know you're his daughter."

"How?" she asked, voice breaking.

Dumbledore explained how Henri de la Falaise had blurted her secret to an Auror when questioned over Sirius' escape. The man, mad after only a few years in Azkabahn, had been placed in a cell next to him and the Ministry, convinced Henri knew how their prisoner had managed to slip past the guards, had appointed Kingsley Shacklebolt to get what information he could. Remus could see the wheels turning as she put it all together in her mind. Shacklebolt had been the one that questioned her two years previous. Remus sensed she was connecting the Auror to the crafty wizard before her and noticed a look of awe in her eyes as Dumbledore spoke to her.

In the end, the professor managed to convince Kali to abandon her home for Hogsmeade and take her first real job, just as he had convinced him to take the post at Hogwarts. Remus realized Dumbledore never needed him and figured it was yet another attempt from the old man to keep him connected somehow.

As he lay awake in bed that night, mulling over the day, he tried to reconcile the young woman he'd seen with the one in the letters she'd written to him since leaving Beauxbatons. There was innocence in the honesty of her written words that wasn't present when he saw her in person. Face – to – face, she wielded honesty like a weapon, bitter truth like the pointy end of a sword. It was disconcerting and frankly, yet another thing she did that reminded him of Sirius. His mantra, '_just being honest, mate_," was Sirius' way of dulling the sting when he delivered the barb, unapologetic, just like her.

Remus fretted, as the wind whistled through the cracks in the roof of his cottage, on just how he would get through the next year, with Sirius Black on the loose, his look – a – like daughter nearby in Hogsmeade, the familiar walls of Hogwarts around him and Harry Potter, the son of James and Lily, as his student, reminding him everyday of everything they both had lost.

It was going to be a long, long year.

* * *

So, what did you think? Did you hate the Lucius/Kali thing? Like I said before, I wasn't sure about it but the character of Kali is flawed (alot like her father and mother combined) so I felt I had to do it. 

Let me know what you think.

**Coming Soon:** chapter 14: untitled - the big reveal for father and daughter, and a few surprises as well!

**BTW:** The t-shirt kali wore when Dumbledore and Remus visited her was an homage to a great band. Did anyone get it? No? Oh, well. Whatever. Nevermind


	14. Chapter 14: A Grim Reminder

**Hi there!**

It's been a little over a week, but the next chapter is finally here! Unfortunately, the rest may not come as frequently. It seems fanfic doesn't pay (who knew?) so I must get a day job (sob!). I will try to update as frequently as possible, though. Promise.

**BTW:** Thanks for all the reviews, they keep me writing. And, oh yes, for all those who hated the L/K thing, so did I but like I said, I had to do it. I figure after that the character has no where to go but up!

Hope you enjoy it.

**Disclaimer:** Nope, nope, and nope.**

* * *

****Chapter 14**: A Grim Reminder 

The sunny days of summer dwindled, while the first month of the school year passed, punctuated by another full moon. Remus, feeling a little less ill since starting a regimen of wolfsbane, instead found himself struggling with a different kind of pain.

Seeing Harry for the first time on The Hogwarts Express had been quite a shock; a shock that did not lessen each time he saw him. On the contrary, it was as if James himself lived and breathed every time the young boy walked into a room.

Even more disconcerting for Remus were the bright green eyes that peered out at him keenly from the boy's familiar face. They held the same fire as Lily's had, the same intensity and intelligence.

Remus found teaching the boy was akin to torture but he learned to soldier through. Being James and Lily's friend, he had an obligation to protect the boy. It's why he agreed to return once more to the hallowed halls of Hogwarts even though the walls, the desks, the grounds, the rooms all reminded him of the happiest time of his life.

Despite his feelings, there was nothing he valued more than teaching. It was the only thing he still enjoyed, especially since his personal life was once again in shambles.

Remus had spent the last three years in and out of work since being forced to resign his post at Beauxbatons. Although only two people in France had known his secret, it turned out it was one too many. The resident healer, Mlle Colbert, Remus had rightly guessed, had feared him and threatened to expose his status as a werewolf unless he resigned. He left France that June with a glowing letter of recommendation from the headmistress, Madame Maxime, who was truly sorry to see him go, but more embittered by the experience.

And then there was Hestia Jones.

When he returned to Britain, Hestia seemed understanding, much to his chagrin. It meant he'd really have to do what he'd been putting off – end things with her once and for all. Fortunately for him (and his cowardly ways), she gave him the speech about 'growing apart' and 'wanting different things' only a few weeks later. It seemed being attached to a man who went from professor to no prospects in such a short time put a damper on her feelings towards him. They ended the latest chapter of their relationship amicably, which, to him, was a relief.

Being out of work and out of galleons once more, Remus did the only thing he could. He went to work in the muggle world, earning just enough to get by. He also struggled with increasing pain and loss of self – control during full moons, mimicking how he felt in his daily life.

It was a low, lonely time for him. The only solace he had were Kali's letters.

She had begun to write to him soon after leaving Beauxbatons and continued steadily for a year, until her grandmother was arrested and charged. The friendship they'd begun at Beauxbatons, though tenuous, had developed by owl post. He looked forward to the letters, took comfort in them, so it was disheartening for Remus when it stopped. He had only received a handful of letters from her since, each of them vague and distant.

But now, despite the state of things, Dumbledore had given him another chance to fulfill his potential. He was determined to teach the students of his alma mater all he had learned about Defense Against the Dark Arts. Being a werewolf, he had an advantage; he was a dark creature himself and had come face - to - face with many others during his time in the Order. Even though he could hardly regale his students with his harrowing tales, he could teach them practical skills. And even though he couldn't tell Harry all about his adventures with his father, he could still teach Harry what his father hadn't been able to.

He could fulfill the promise that Sirius threw away.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Since his escape, Sirius had traveled from the middle of the North Sea through frigid waters, across Britain to see Harry at his relatives', then to London and finally to the village of Hogsmeade, arriving just in time for the start of fall term. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to see Harry again since appearing before him as Padfoot.

It killed him to know Peter was so close to him, in the castle in Gryffindor Tower. From the The Daily Prophet clipping he kept in his pocket, he knew the red - haired middle - aged couple with the gaggle of children had been Gryffindors; he recognized them instantly though he couldn't remember their names. The black – and – white photo from the newspaper also told him that the boy with Peter the rat was about Harry's age, and, after overhearing a few key ministry members talking outside The Leaky Cauldron, he learned that he was Harry's mate. The only thought that eased his mind was that Remus was also in the castle, no doubt watching over James and Lily's son. As long as he was there, Sirius told himself, Harry would be safe.

Sirius spent his days hiding in the caves on the mountain, and skirting the village looking for any opportunity to get closer to the castle, but being a burly, black dog wasn't much better then being Sirius Black. Most villagers gasped when they saw him, or shooed him away, fearing he was a bad omen. Only a handful of witches and wizards laid out scraps for him, and the meager meals couldn't satisfy the aching hunger he'd been feeling for a dozen years.

One night, soon after the full moon, while Sirius wandered the edge of town in search of food and information, he noticed a young woman that caught his eye and aroused his curiosity. She was alone, walking down a side street towards a row of cottages. There was something about her that was at once familiar and oddly intriguing. She didn't look particularly friendly; in fact, she had a regal coolness about her that reminded him of his mother. He didn't know why, but something told him to follow her. So he did.

She lived in the last house at the end of the lane. It stood slightly apart from the others, as if shunned by the rest of the stalwart cottages, banished to the end of the line. Beyond the house was a patch of field, grown wild and abandoned over time, the edge of the forest to one side and the base of the mountain on the other. It was a house he imagined a hag would live, or some similar outcast and he imagined she was being punished for something she did in the past.

Sirius watched as she entered her home and lit candles, making the small house look alive. Curious, he snuck into the back garden and peered in through a window. The young woman, who held a somber allure, put on some music and disappeared into another room. He knew it wasn't a wireless but a record player, just like the one Remus had given him years ago when he moved out on his own. The music, too, was so familiar, and mesmerized by the melancholy notes, he laid on the back steps, curled up and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

_Hogwarts, March 10, 1977_. 

"Go on, open it!"

Remus tore the wrapping off the birthday present patiently as his mates sat around him in the common room of Gryffindor Tower. It was his seventeenth birthday, the last he would celebrate at Hogwarts and he wanted to enjoy it. Lily sat on James' lap, watching him with anxious anticipation as he slowly unwrapped her gift. Tearing away the last scraps hastily after Sirius, losing patience, lunged for him, he held up a record.

"How's he going to listen to that _here_, Evans?" Sirius asked irksomely as Remus smiled and thanked her.

"He can play it when he goes home," she snapped, looking guilty moments later.

Sirius jumped up and plopped himself down beside Remus on the sofa. "What's it anyways?" he asked, pulling it out of Remus' hands to examine it.

Remus braced himself.

"Evans, are you _trying_ to tell our mate here something?" he said with a smirk.

Peter, curious, got up, walked around behind Sirius and peered over his shoulder.

"_Pink Moon_?" he read aloud incredulously.

"It's a great album," Lily said earnestly.

James, Peter and Sirius all eyed each other briefly and then burst out in raucous laughter. Remus turned scarlet.

"You lot are so immature," Lily said, not really sure why they were laughing. "If any of you had a sensitive bone in your body, you'd be able to appreciate good music."

The three boys looked at each other once again and began to giggle furiously, as Remus rolled his eyes and warned, "Don't say it, Sirius!"

Sirius tried to look innocent as Lily realized that they were thinking and blushed.

"You, Evans, have a cruel sense of humour," Sirius said through fits of laughter.

James, seeing Remus' hurt expression, and sensing the tension coming off Lily, reigned in his laughter.

"Play nice, children," James chided them, a little anxious.

For James, dating Lily while being friends with the others was a delicate balancing act. Lily and Sirius had never gotten along, ever since he pulled a prank on her the first week of First Year. She seemed to view him as an arrogant jerk (which hadn't helped James' cause over the years), and little had changed since. Then there was the matter of Remus' secret. It wasn't his to tell, but he always felt a little guilty for lying to Lily once a month when Remus would disappear.

"Mine next," Sirius asserted, thrusting a badly – wrapped present into Remus' hands.

"It's the only one left, Sirius," Peter said, rolling his eyes behind the excited boy's back.

Remus, on Sirius's insistence, had opened his other gifts first. Peter, as usual, had given him a bag of chocolates and James had given him a book entitled The Wizard's Guide to Women, in honour of his reaching the age of majority, and because, according to James, after the debacle with Hestia Jones, he needed it.

As they watched him quickly tear away the wrapping (he didn't want to provoke Sirius again), their eyes widened as a leather briefcase was revealed. It was tan brown with a fine grain and attached at the top was a gold plaque that read, '_Remus J. Lupin, Professor'_.

Remus was stunned.

"Doyoulikeit?" Sirius asked excitedly.

"Um, uh," he stammered, truly shocked, "it's…it's beautiful."

Sirius looked genuinely pleased.

"Hey," James chimed up, "I thought we agreed, no extravagant gifts." They had all agreed not to spend galleons on presents for each other particularly because, while James and Sirius came from wealthy families, Peter and Remus did not. He was rather annoyed with his best mate, not only for breaking the rule, but also because he'd wanted to get Remus something better. He deserved it.

Peter seemed more peeved than his mate, but didn't say a word.

"Lighten up, mate!" Sirius scoffed. "It's not like you or I will ever be '_professor'_."

"Hey, how 'bout me?" Peter said, sounding hurt. "Don't I rate?"

"As a professor?" James asked amusedly, "get serious, Wormtail!"

As soon as James said it, he realized it had been a mistake. Peter forgot he was being insulted and froze, as did Remus, who forgot about the expensive gift in his hands, and Sirius, who forgot about making his usual pun.

"_Wormtail_?" Lily asked, brows furrowed, watching their reaction.

"Yeah," James said hurriedly, trying to sound nonchalant, "it's just a nickname."

"Yeah," Peter chimed in, trying to be helpful, "I had a…pet worm, you see, and…it had a really long tail."

James groaned inwardly, while Sirius snickered, and Remus tried to suppress a smile.

"Uh, huh," Lily said suspiciously, eyeing each of them in turn.

James, desperate to distract his girlfriend from his little slip, suddenly jumped up, causing Lily to spring off his lap. "That's it for presents, then, come on Lily, let's go!"

"Wait," she said, perplexed by her boyfriend's odd behaviour, "why are we running off?"

James searched his mind for a convincing answer. "It's a…surprise," he said, sounding unsure.

Lily seemed to melt. "For me?" she asked sweetly, forgetting her suspicions. The others rolled their eyes, amused by their mate's power over the prefect.

James led Lily away by the hand, disappearing through the portrait hole. Sirius had a look of disgust on his face.

"What do you think he's going to do?" Peter asked, as he sat in the armchair the couple had just vacated.

"He'll think of something," Remus said, still amused, "he always does."

Sirius threw a balled – up wad of wrapping paper at Peter's head, hitting him square in the face.

"Hey!" he protested, "what was that for?"

"A pet worm? Really?!"

"So," he said defensively, "it's possible!"

"Except for one thing, genius," Sirius responded, looking put out, "worms don't have tails!"

* * *

_"Padfoot, wake up!"_

**_James?_**

_"Get up, you lazy git! It's a great day for Quidditch!"_

Sirius jumped up, blinking his canine eyes and searching for James in vain. Realizing it was only a dream, he began to notice his surroundings.

_Oh, shite_.

He was still on the back steps of the house he'd been peering into the night before. The sun, hidden behind a row of clouds, was beginning to set. Worrying how long he'd been asleep, he started to head back through the garden towards the back gate when something caught his eye.

He noticed the young woman from the night before sitting on a bench under a large tree, watching him with interest. Frozen, he looked back at her. She continued to stare at him, her face unreadable as he stared back at her with large, glowing eyes. Minutes passed as neither girl nor canine moved. Her piercing stare disconcerting, Sirius began to panic. Suddenly, she stood and began to approach him warily.

Sirius, sensing her fear, did the only thing he could think to do. He bolted.

Days later, as he wandered the outskirts of the village once more, determined to put a newly – formed plan into action, he spotted the woman once more but this time she wasn't alone.

He almost hadn't recognized his old mate, but his distinctive, wolfish scent gave him away. Sirius was shocked by the look of him. He looked haggard, worn, old. It saddened him to think about the monthly pain his friend had to endure, which, by the look of him, had obviously worsened over the years. It was the only way to explain how a thirty – three year old man could look at least a decade older. But his empathetic thoughts were fleeting, and soon he was again focused on figuring a way to execute his plan.

He followed the pair at a distance as they walked back to the tiny house. Fortunately for Sirius, they did not enter the cottage but instead moved around to the back garden. A small, round table and set of chairs had been placed by the back door on a stone patio.

Remus sat down and waited as the young woman went into the house and came back with a large pitcher of iced tea and two tall glasses on a tray. Sirius noticed that she didn't use magic but carried them out by hand. Hidden behind a bit of overgrown shrubbery, he listened as they spoke in clipped tones and short sentences. There was a tension between them that he found curious, as Remus had almost always gotten along with people. In fact, he remembered vaguely, his mate had always been the peacekeeper.

"Have you seen Dumbledore lately?" Remus asked the young woman.

"He was here a few weeks ago," she said, pouring him another glass. "He told me all about the Halloween Feast. Apparently it's quite a thing to behold."

At the mention of the feast, memories of years' past came flooding back into Sirius' mind.

"Yes, it is," Remus answered, oddly tense. "The whole student body looks forward to it. There's a different surprise each year."

Sirius didn't hear the rest of the conversation. The mention of the Halloween Feast (his personal favourite), gave him an idea. He only needed a few things to make it work. As he sat in the bushes, watching his old mate, he suddenly knew what he had to do.

The next night, three days before Halloween, Sirius made his way back to the house at the end of the lane. As he approached, he noticed it was dark and silent. The young woman obviously wasn't home. He considered breaking in but thought better of it. He couldn't be sure what kind of security charms the cottage had placed on it, after all. Instead, he walked around to the back steps and laid down, waiting for the young woman to return.

As the night approached the witching hour, he heard the sound of a door unlocking followed by the glow of light from the windows. He jumped to his feet, peering into the window just to make sure she was alone, and then began to scratch at the door with his front paws. He could hear her approach the door from the other side and began to whimper.

The young woman opened the door slowly and looked down at him suspiciously.

"What do you want, dog?" she asked him.

Padfoot bowed his head low and continued to whimper.

"Guess you're not a Grim then," she said as she bent down and patted him on the head. He raised his head and barked, as if to say 'no'.

"You must be a stray." She stood up straight. "Come on then," she said, slapping her thigh, "get in here, you must be hungry." She turned and entered the house, Padfoot following close behind.

"First," she said, reaching up onto the highest shelf of a bookcase in the lounge, "I need to do something."

Padfoot froze as she extracted a slim wooden rod from between a neat row of books and walked towards him. At first he thought she was going curse him but realized, as she kneeled before him, she was cleaning his fur. He felt a tingling sensation from nose to paw as the mud, dirt and debris vanished and his black coat became shiny once again. He had a fleeting thought about what this magical bath would do to his human appearance as she stowed her wand back on the bookshelf and disappeared into what he assumed was the kitchen. She came back out quickly, a plate of chicken pulled off the bone in her hand.

After finishing his meal, Padfoot perched himself by the fire, watching the young woman stealthily. She disappeared and reappeared moments later with pillows and a warm, old blanket which she laid out like a bed on the hearth.

"I hope you've done your business," she said, "or it's the first and last time you'll be in this house." She laughed at herself. "Look at me, talking to a dog."

Padfoot watched as she checked the doors and walked towards the bedroom door. Stopping, she turned and with a wave of her hand, extinguished the candles throughout the room.

"I think I'll call you Snuffles," she said unexpectedly, and then entered the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Sirius waited patiently, listening to the slight noise she made as she got ready for bed. An hour later, all was still. After pressing his canine ear to the bedroom door and making sure she was asleep, he quietly transformed back into his human form. It was a relief to be himself once more but he realized, as he stretched his limbs, that now wasn't the time to stop and enjoy it. He made his way to the back door and slowly unlocked the back door. He reached outside, under the steps and pulled out a bundle of clothes, all stolen from the wash line of various backyards in the neighbourhood. He quickly dressed, then went straight to the top shelf of the bookcase and retrieved the young woman's wand.

"Finally," he whispered to himself as he held the short, wooden stick in his hand. Although it wasn't his, it felt good in his hand; it made him feel whole.

He smiled to himself at his first success and, distracted by details of his plan (now set into motion with the acquisition of a wand), he failed to notice that he was not alone.

* * *

Yes, it's a cliffie, sorry! Don't hate me but I had to do it. I needed to fill in the blanks for Remus & Sirius (and stick in a flashback just for fun) but worry not, the next chapter is all about daddy Pads and his spawn. 

Tell me what you think, don't be shy. Just please, no flames, fire freaks me out!

**Coming Soon:** chapter 15: untitled - where Sirius and Kali finally meet...

Just a note: Pink Moon is an actual album, seriously melancholy, by Nick Drake (who committed suicide, so that explains it) and, yes, that's what she was listening to. Also, the tee Kali wears in the last chapter is indeed a Nirvana tee.


	15. Chapter 15: A Brief Encounter

**Hello!**

I hope I haven't left you hanging too long.

There's not much to say except, I hope you like it.

**Disclaimer:** You know it, don't make me say it again.**

* * *

**

Chapter 15: A Brief Encounter

_"Kali…"_

**_Mum?_**

_"He's here."_

_"**What should I do?"**_

_"Believe."_

Kali opened her eyes as her mother's image lingered in her mind. She dreamed of her mother often but Dahlia only spoke to her in times of trouble. As she became fully awake, she also became aware of the sound of footsteps in the room beyond. They were faint but unmistakable.

Her mother's words came back to her.

_He's here._

Without hesitation she moved off the bed, casting a silencing spell as she went, and tiptoed into the lounge. In the darkness, she could barely make out the shadow of a tall figure at the other end of the small room with something slender in its hand.

Her wand.

_Oh, shite_.

The warm glow of the streetlamps filtered in through the window, illuminating the figure as it moved. She knew instinctively who it was before the light hit his face. Nevertheless, a tiny gasp escaped her lips as he turned.

The silence broken, he looked towards the corner of the room where she stood. Before she could react, he pointed her wand at her and thin ropes shot out, binding her wrists and hands. She tried to scream but made no sound. He approached her slowly, wand pointed at her heart.

"Silencing charm," he said amusedly, "very clever." His voice was hoarse, as if it hadn't been used for a while, and he had a mad glint in his eyes.

He was disheveled, and rough – looking, but still she recognized her father. His gray eyes sparkled in the dark and she realized, as she stood bound and as good as gagged (by her own hand), that it was the first time she'd ever heard her father's voice. Up close, she could see his gray eyes, large and round, staring at her keenly. His face was gaunt and wasted, with sunken cheeks and protruding bones. His hair, long and black, reached down to his elbows in tangles. He had the look of a madman and Kali was genuinely afraid.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, probably sensing her fear.

She wanted to speak and seeming to sense that as well, he whispered, leaning close, "I'll lift the spell for you if you promise not to scream."

She looked into his eyes, so much like her own, and nodded.

He muttered under his breath, waving her wand in front of her then looked at her expectantly. "Well?" he demanded.

She didn't know where to begin. There were so many questions rattling around her head.

_Does he know who I am?_

She tried to focus but felt overwhelmed.

_Why is he here?_

His piercing gray eyes fixed her with an intense stare and she finally found her voice.

"What do you want?"

Looking pensive, he began to pace. "What do I want?" he muttered. "What do I want, what do I want?"

He turned towards her suddenly and with a flick of her wand, sent her soaring towards a chair. She felt it push against the backs of her knees and, losing balance, she dropped onto the seat.

"I want to be a free man," he croaked, approaching her.

"A man like you will never be free," she responded darkly.

He squatted down in front of her and peered up into her eyes. "And what would you know about it?" He had a look of disgust on his face.

She didn't respond. He continued to stare at her but before her eyes his expression changed – a change that caused her to panic.

"Who are you?" he demanded. She didn't answer, determined not to show any emotion, and he sprung up and grabbed her chin. Leaning over her, he jabbed the lighted tip of the wand in her face and examined her closely.

"I'm Dahlia del Fuego's daughter," she finally spat out, trying to wrest her face from his grip.

He loosened his grip and pulled back, his eyes growing round and wide once more. He stood for what seemed an eternity staring at her. "Who's your father?" he asked finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

She scoffed, her eyes stinging as she fought back tears. "You have to ask?"

"No," he said, breathless, "no, it can't be." He began to pace once more, shaking his head. "She told me…it wasn't mine."

Kali felt a twinge of pain at the word '_it_' and a sudden wave of anger came over her.

"Stop!"

He jerked suddenly to a stop as if his feet were very heavy. He looked down, grunting, as he tried to move his legs in vain then looked at her, a baffled expression on his face.

"How did you…?"

He toppled forward suddenly as she silently lifted the one – tonne jinx and he hit the floor with a loud thud.

"Oof!"

She jumped up and vaulted over him, as he lay sprawled on the floor. Summoning her wand, she lifted the binds from her hands and wheeled around to face him. Already on his feet, he lunged for the wand but this time she was ready.

She flung a spell at him with a wave of a hand, which lifted and pinned him to the nearest wall. A look of terror clouded his gaunt features as he dangled helplessly, unable to move.

"Please,' he pleaded, "You have to let me go." He struggled against the invisible force that held him there. "I need to finish it, I need to kill him."

A sick feeling came over her.

"He's just a child," she breathed, horrified.

"A child?" he asked confusedly. "He's not a child, he's a filthy rat!"

_Rat?_

Despite her confusion, she went on. "You'll never get near him, you know," she said angrily. "Dumbledore would never let you hurt Harry."

The words seemed to sting him and he looked genuinely hurt. "I would _never_ hurt Harry," he choked.

Baffled by his reaction, she asked, "Then who?"

"Peter," he spat out venomously, "that rat, _he_ has to die."

A sinking feeling in her stomach replaced the anger as she realized he must be truly mad. Sirius slid a little down the wall.

"Peter's dead," she whispered, "you killed him…you killed him twelve years ago."

His face twisted like a waxy mask into rage.

"_I. Didn't. Kill. Him_!"

"And you didn't betray James and Lily Potter either," she stated, disbelieving. Albus had told her the whole story just this past summer.

His eyes shone with tears at the mention of his best mate and his wife. "That was Peter," he choked out, overwhelmed by emotion, "He betrayed them!"

She couldn't believe he was denying his guilt. After all the stories she'd heard over the years about how callous he'd been, cackling madly when they arrested him, it didn't fit. Why would he deny what he did when he had nothing to gain?

She knew what she had to do but was hesitant. The mind of a mad person was different from others. Their memories were even more disjointed but very powerful and often overwhelming. Besides, after the assault on his mind by Dementors for a dozen years, it was more than possible that his memories from that fateful night were gone.

She sighed, breathing deep, and approached him as she lifted the spell slowly, allowing him to stand firmly on the floor. He had the look of a frightened child as she pressed her palms to his cheeks and rested her fingers on his temple.

_Believe._

"Look me in the eyes," she whispered. He looked at her wearily as he struggled to move. She took in his face – the still regal nose, the classic line of the jaw, the arch of the cheekbones. She imagined him as he must have looked, young, charming and, for a man, handsomely beautiful.

_You have to do it._

Her heart pounded in her ears as she fixed her eyes upon his. Before she knew it what was happening, the images began to race through her mind.

_A prison cell, dark and dreary, the moon glowing distant in the sky…a werewolf running through a forest…Azkaban growing smaller in the distance…a stag galloping by the edge of a lake…frigid water…the starry sky overhead…_

Kali pushed in deeper, as nausea threatened.

A_ red – haired woman in a white dress, smiling brightly as green eyes shine with joy…a bespectacled man with a goofy smile on his face…Remus, young and healthy, dancing with the red – haired woman among a small crowd of couples…a short, chubby man patting the bespectacled man on the back, congratulating him…_

Something shifted in his mind and suddenly Kali was deluged with images of flying bodies, severed limbs and a gaping hole in the street. She shuddered but couldn't stop. The short, chubby man, the same one from the previous memory, the same one from the photograph of her father and his friends she'd found among her mother's possessions, held his wand to Sirius' chest, a strange look on his face as he learned the Potters were dead. She saw the look turn to horror as Sirius told him Harry was alive and Voldemort was as good as dead.

Sirius started to slip from between her fingers, his body slumping slowly to the floor. Kali was aware of the movement but could do nothing to stop it. She felt herself being dragged down as the gruesome images were replaced with the couple once again, except now they weren't smiling, but had grave looks upon their faces. She heard the words, '_secret'_, '_ keeper'_ and '_Remus_' distinctly but couldn't make out what was being said. She saw the chubby man, looking grave as well, utter '_it's for the best'_ and then she knew.

She believed.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Sirius hit the floor, his knees weak and his body shaking from the unexpected assault on his mind. His vision clouded, he could barely make out the woman, his daughter, as she stumbled to the bathroom. The wretching sound and the cold floor brought him back to the present, and getting a hold of his thoughts, he picked himself off the floor and walked slowly to the bathroom, afraid of letting her out of his sight.

As he approached the door he saw her sitting on the stone floor, head in hands, shaking. She looked up suddenly, as if sensing his presence.

"Why?" she breathed.

He didn't understand. He leaned against the wall and slid down, sitting across from her on the cold stone floor of the tiny bathroom.

"I don't know...why...he did it," he said through shallow breaths.

"No," she said with more energy, "why didn't you fight?" She looked at him with furrowed brows. "You were innocent, why didn't you fight when they took you away?"

He looked at her and the sudden realization that she was indeed Dahlia's daughter hit him. She looked so much like her it was uncanny.

Except she didn't.

There was something about her that left him cold.

It was the eyes.

Their colour changed before his eyes, swirling brown and gray with emotion. He saw her lips move but couldn't hear what she said. His father's stern face, the look of anger always present on his regal features, came into his mind.

"Answer me!"

He snapped back to the young woman in front of him. "What's your name?" he asked, oblivious to anything she'd just said.

She scoffed, looking hurt. "You won't answer me, then I won't answer you," she whispered. "Get out."

From the look on her face he knew she meant it. He rose slowly from the floor, his eyes fixed on her, and backed out of the bathroom. She stood up as well and he noticed the wand in her hand.

"You can't have it," she said coldly, looking down at her wand.

Sirius considered lunging for it once again but stopped himself. It was obvious she had extraordinary powers and he couldn't risk being bested by her again. Not if he wanted to keep Harry safe. His back hit the door and he groped for the handle.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he pulled open the door.

She stopped advancing towards him. "So am I," she breathed.

For a moment she looked like a little girl and Sirius felt a pang of sympathy for her but it quickly evaporated as the cool night air hit him and he remembered why he was there in the first place. He turned around and stepped out onto the back steps.

Without a word, without a backward glance, he disapparated.

* * *

So, um, satisfying? Yes? No? Let me know.

**Coming Soon:** Chapter 16: untitled - a Sirius sighting, a visit from the Ministry and lives hanging in the balance...


	16. Chapter 16: A Late Night Meeting

**Hi there!**

The next chapter is up. I have been thinking about ending this story where it began (with Sirius' escape) and continuing in another story, where I plan to have more comedy as well as the angst. I anticipateonly a few more chapters for BTE, just to let you know.

**BTW:** Kali is nineteen at this point in the story. Legal, according to wizard law, for 2 years now.

Hope you like it. See ya!

**Disclaimer:** You've read it so many times, you know it by heart.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 16**: A Late Night Meeting

Remus walked towards the Three Broomsticks, clutching a bit of parchment in his left hand. It had been nearly a month since Sirius' attempt to break into Gryffindor Tower and the guilt he felt over keeping Sirius' secret had kept him away from Kali. He'd managed to avoid her by making excuses whenever she contacted to him but he found she was determined. The note she sent him that morning proved it.

_**Remus,**_

_**Meet me at the Three Broomsticks tonight at nine. Don't think about making another excuse, or I'll have to go and fetch you myself (think of the rumours it would start!)**_

_**Don't be late,**_

_**K.**_

He'd been tempted to stay at the castle but knew she was capable of following through with her threat and she had a point about the rumours it would start if Kali walked into Hogwarts looking for him. As he approached the pub, he secretly hoped the patrons that had been driven away by the Dementors had not returned.

He walked into the pub and felt the immediate warmth of the large fire roaring at the opposite end. He pulled off the hood of his cloak and scanned the room, looking for Kali. The pub was scattered with patrons, including a table of Aurors deep in conversation, sipping various steaming beverages. He spotted her sitting at a table by the frost – covered windows and, stuffing the note in his cloak pocket, felt each pair of Aurors' eyes follow him as he walked over and sat down.

"So it takes a thinly – veiled threat for you to see me, does it?" Kali asked in a playful tone as he removed his cloak.

"Thinly – veiled?" he repeated, matching her playful tone. "I was very busy," he continued more seriously. He was determined not to admit he'd been avoiding her. It would only lead her to questions he couldn't answer.

"Teaching a bunch of privileged brats," she suggested a little bitterly. Her years at Beauxbatons had obviously soured her.

"It's not like that at Hogwarts," he explained earnestly, "it's a place for anyone who wants to learn."

"Lucius' son is one of your students, is he not?"

He couldn't believe she would bring Malfoy's name up so casually.

"Yes."

"Well, then," she replied, "you've proved my point."

Before he could respond, Madame Rosemerta approached their table, tray in hand. She greeted him jovially, a marked difference in her mood from his last visit, when he found the pub almost empty and the proprietress complaining of Dementors scaring her customers away.

"I wouldn't expect to see _you_ here at this late hour, professor," she commented.

Remus knew there was a '_with the likes of her'_ in there somewhere from the pointed glance she gave Kali. Evidently, Kali noticed it, too.

"He just couldn't stay away," she said flirtatiously, cupping her hands over his on the table.

Remus felt embarrassment creeping up on him and was sure his face reddened as Madame Rosemerta gave him a look women give foolish men. He tried to pull his hands free but being a clever witch, Kali had cast a sticking charm on them.

"I'll have a warm butterbeer, thanks," he said hastily, before she had a chance to ask. He was hoping to get the proprietress away from them quickly. Madame Rosemerta nodded acknowledgement, her judgmental eyes lingering on the table, then whisked away, the sound of her clicking heels as she retreated deafening.

"That wasn't funny," he scolded as he pulled his hands out from under hers, the sticking charm lifted.

She chuckled and smiled deviously. Remus found it maddening.

"You know, you really are – "

" – his daughter," she finished. Her smile vanished as she uttered the words and Remus noticed she looked weary. Despite her polished appearance, it was obvious she'd been having as much trouble sleeping as he'd had.

"I was going to say '_a pain in the arse'_," he said, softening, though, in truth, the thought _had _crossed his mind.

She smiled briefly at his candid words. "That's what Celestia used to call me," she said, "but it sounds so much better in Spanish."

It was his turn to smile.

Madame Rosemerta returned with his butterbeer, placing it gingerly before him and eyeing Kali with disdain. "Would you like another, miss?" she asked coolly.

"No, thanks," she answered curtly, eyes fixed on Remus.

He noticed the proprietress roll her eyes, obviously misunderstanding the look between them and heard her mutter, "_really_" as she walked away towards the table of aurors, who were greeted with enthusiasm. All hope of salvaging his reputation abandoned, Remus turned his attention to Kali once more. There was a look of sadness in her eyes that, once he saw it, caused a sudden jolt inside that shocked him.

At that moment she looked away, casting a quick glance towards the table of aurors, then looking down into her empty pint of butterbeer.

"I'm going to London for a few days."

"Why?" he asked, concerned, as he tried to shake off the overwhelming feeling.

"I just need to get out of here," she said, playing with the mug.

"It must be difficult," he said, trying to show her a little understanding. At times, he wished he could leave as well.

She looked up at him. "Not any more difficult than it is for you," she replied weakly.

_You have no idea._

"Well, I have lessons and students to distract me."

"And I have a store room."

Remus didn't know how to respond. He'd always felt a little regretful for convincing her to take the job at the apothecary. Mrs. Hurlbutt, the owner, fearing Kali's presence would hurt her business, had banished her to the back room to handle inventory from the day she started and he knew she loathed it.

"Is it that bad?" he asked, curious.

"Ass – numbingly dull."

He chuckled and muttered a "_sorry_" as he took a sip of his warm beverage.

"Do you need anything in London?" she asked, changing the subject abruptly.

He considered for a moment. "Not that I can think of," he replied, then asked, "when are you leaving?"

"Tonight."

"How?" He knew for a fact the last train had left the station half and hour earlier.

"You ask too many questions," she said bluntly.

This was a classic Black move, pulling someone closer then suddenly pushing them away. He felt the sudden urge to burst out in laughter at the realization but restrained himself.

"So this is why you asked me to meet you?" he asked, frustrated, "to tell me you're leaving town for a few days but not tell me why or how?"

"Correct," she replied, matter – of – fact.

The wolf inside, having been loose only a week prior, was wound up with anger. "Well, then," he said, reaching into his trouser pocket and dumping a handful of sickles onto the table, "job well done. I'm off."

He stood up abruptly, a part of him ready to strangle the tiny girl in front of him. Instead, he threw on his cloak and stalked out of the pub, vaguely aware of the aurors' eyes on him as she called out after him.

As he stepped out into the dark, cold night, he felt a hand on his arm.

"What?" he snapped, rounding on her.

She gave him a deadly look, unfettered by fear. "You want me to be honest with you," she said, obviously fighting back her own emotions, "but you can't be bothered to be honest with me."

He glared at her, confused.

_She can't know, can she?_

He needed a moment to reign in the wolf. "What do you want to know?" he asked coldly after a long silence.

She sighed audibly, made and noise of frustration and threw up her hands. He continued to stare at her, aching to know what she wanted to say but obviously felt she couldn't.

"I fucking hate you sometimes, you know that?" she blurted, sounding resigned.

He was taken aback but quickly recovered. "Same here," he replied.

Remus saw hurt flicker in her steely eyes and felt guilty once again. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm just…" He couldn't find the words.

"I know," she interrupted, "me, too." She sighed again and rubbed the bridge of her nose in an eerily familiar way.

He moved closer and clasped her shoulders in his hands. "Be safe in London," he said, trying to ignore the familial gesture.

"I will."

Kali hugged him, burying her face in his chest. Surprised, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders in a lame attempt to reciprocate.

She pulled away from him and smiled weakly. "You should go," she said, "they might need you back at the castle."

Remus nodded, said goodbye and Disapparated, the image of Kali feigning a smile the last thing he saw as he left.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Sirius watched from between the shops as Kali and Remus stood outside the Three Broomsticks. It looked like they were arguing, but afraid to get too close (lest his old mate recognize his scent), he was unable hear what was being said. He sat in the shadows wondering how long Remus had known her when they suddenly embraced. He felt a pang of some unfamiliar emotion at the sight but it lessened when he realized how uncomfortable his old mate looked. The fleeting thought that perhaps he didn't want to know her entered his mind. He really couldn't blame Moony. She was the daughter of the man he thought had betrayed and killed all his mates, after all. Well, all his mates but one.

Anger bubbled up inside him as he watched Remus disapparate. It was the only feeling he was conscious of and it was directed at Peter.

_Dirty, sniveling bastard._

He hated feeling powerless. It was maddening and he had to stop it. He'd tried to take matters on hand on Halloween but had failed miserably, showing his frustration on the Fat Lady instead of on the filthy rat he had been looking for. He'd even managed to frighten Harry when he snuck to the pitch to watch him play for the Gryffindor team. Watching in horror as he hurdled to the ground at the sight of Dementors had taken a toll on his nerves. He knew it was his fault, was sure the Dementors had sensed him somehow and he felt terrible about it.

He began to pace in the alley, feeling the sudden urge to run. It always happened when he was distressed and in canine form. His ability to leap and bound as a dog was exhilarating and always made him feel better but he knew it would take more than a frolic in the woods to rid himself of what he was feeling. The answer to his problems was still the same.

Peter.

Fortunately for Sirius, he'd found an unlikely ally in the form of a ginger – haired cat. It belonged to Harry's lovely mate, a petite girl with bushy brown hair. He'd seen her carrying the cat in Diagon Alley and had spotted the cat roaming the grounds a few times since. The cat didn't seem to mind he was a dog and they made friends quickly, chasing birds through the forest in the night and walking in the moonlight, foraging for any morsel. It was as if the cat could sense that Padfoot wasn't really a dog at all but a man -- and Sirius liked to think -- an innocent man. He finally communicated with his feline friend as Sirius one night and told him about Peter. Since then, the cat had been trying to capture Wormtail for him but without much success.

As he watched Kali pace back and forth across the street, he came to the conclusion that if he wanted to get to Peter and keep Harry safe, he would just have to try harder.

* * *

This ends kind of abruptly, I know. It isn't anything like the preview but it took on a life of its own as I wrote it. 

Not meant as a filler, but it's all in the interpretation. Let me know what you think.

**Coming Soon**: Chapter 17: where we skip ahead past the holidays and well into the new year, and find things about to come to a head...sorry, I know it's vague...


	17. Chapter 17: Life & Death, or Vice Versa

**Hello there!**

The next chapter is up. It came to me quickly as I'm eager to move on to the sequel. There will only be one more chapter to this story (I think) but it will continue in the next.

**BTW:** Happy Belated Birthday to **Nicoley 117-MissBlueMartini**. Hope it was great! And thanks for all your reviews.

**Disclaimer: **Nope, not yet.

**

* * *

****Chapter 17**: Life & Death, or Vice Versa 

The winter months in Hogsmeade passed quietly for Kali, melding into spring, but the questions that haunted her lingered unanswered.

Sirius had all but disappeared since their meeting on Hallows Eve, and even though, at times, she sensed she was being watched, he never appeared to her again. Hogsmeade, meanwhile, was overrun with Ministry members and Dementors on the prowl for one of the most wanted men in wizarding history. Despite this, he made headlines in February when he managed to infiltrate the walls of Hogwarts for the second time.

Kali didn't know what to do; she knew the truth (at least the most important parts) but felt she couldn't help him without giving away secrets, old and new, and from his lack of contact, she doubted he even wanted it. She had tried to tell Remus but couldn't bring herself to do it, despite the fact that she knew he was keeping the vital fact that Sirius Black was an unregistered Animagus from the Ministry and Dumbledore.

She was going mad with thoughts and worries about a man she didn't even know, a man she wasn't even sure she wanted to know. She considered the fact that one of the reasons her mother never told Sirius about her was because of the kind of man that he was, or rather, hadn't been. The stories about his calculating charm, his haughty attitude, his penchant for women and drink – they all added up to a man that was less than father material and even though Dahlia had failed her early on, in the later years, before her death, she had tried to protect her from harm. It also occurred to her, somewhere in the back of her mind, that perhaps he didn't even believe she was his daughter, or worse, didn't care.

All the questions weighed on her; pointing her down a road her mother had traveled. It frightened her to think she would never be happy, never have peace. She couldn't let that happen, she wouldn't.

Determined not to become like Dahlia, she chose to focus her energy on more positive things. She began her lucrative (and illegal) career as a Healer once again.

It was in the revived pursuit of this endeavor that Kali, having been to London twice since November, found herself standing outside an unassuming house in the middle of London on a warm, sunny day near the end of May. She knocked once and a tall, dark woman answered in haste.

"Thank Merlin, you're here," she said as she ushered Kali into the somber hallway. It was a stark contrast from her first meeting with the same woman months earlier.

"How is he?" Kali asked as she followed her up the stairs.

"I'm not sure." The woman stopped at a bedroom door, wringing her hands in worry. "My brother said I should summon you the moment he saw father." She stepped into the room and Kali followed, her eyes adjusting to the hovering light at the head of the bed that seemed to glow and pulse like a beating heart.

"Miss Del Fuego, thank you for coming," a deep voice said, startling her. She turned to see the familiar face of Kingsley Shacklebolt staring down at her, looking tired.

It still seemed odd to her to be in the Auror's childhood home, even though she'd already been there a few times at his request. He approached her in November, clearly desperate to save his father, who had been in bad health since being attacked by Death Eaters twelve years ago. The Healers at St. Mungo's had done all they could and declared he would be dead in a month but the Auror, privy to details of her family history, became convinced she could help.And, for a while, she did.

"How is he?" she reiterated to him.

"Not well," he said wearily. "He's been home from hospital two days now and he seems to be getting worse rather quickly."

Kali looked at the elderly man unconscious on the bed. She approached him and began to wave her wand slowly over his chest. "What did the Healers at St. Mungo's tell you?" she asked as she examined him.

"They told us…there's nothing more they can do," he answered weakly as his sister, the tall woman, sobbed.

Her back to the siblings, she finished her examination and pocketed her wand. "I'm sorry," she said regretfully, turning around, "but they're right. His illness has advanced beyond treatment."

"Can't you do anything?" the woman asked between sobs. "Dark magic did this to him, dark magic can make it stop!"

"I'm sorry, but it's not that simple, " Kali answered, not sure what else to say.

"So there's nothing to be done?" Kingsley asked her. The look on his face told her he already knew the answer.

"I'm afraid not," she said softly. The woman's sobs became louder and more uncontrolled at her words.

The Auror examined her with shining eyes and suddenly seemed to realize his sister was in distress. He embraced her, trying to calm her down with soothing words. Kali looked away, suddenly feeling like an intruder.

Even though being a healer was in her blood, there were still things she couldn't do – she couldn't cheat death. It was something she'd seen her grandmother struggle with and despite her strength and seeming coldness, Kali knew it was the part she loathed but for Kali this, undoubtedly, was worst part – being a witness to grief.

Trying to make herself as unobtrusive as possible, she inched her way to the foot of the bed. As she watched the hovering light flicker and dim she knew tonight would be Pelasgus Shacklebolt's last night on earth.

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Remus sat at the desk in his office in Hogwarts, trying to reread an essay on vampires for the third time without much success. Rolls of parchment lay stacked beside him at his elbow. He eyed them wearily and sighed.

"Perhaps you should hold off on marking papers for a few days," he heard a voice say from the fireplace. Startled by Professor McGonagall's sudden appearance, he jumped and knocked down the untidy stack.

"Sorry, Lupin," she said as she dusted off her robes and walked over to help him pick up the essays with a wave of her wand.

"It's quite alright," he responded, embarrassed by his reaction.

"I was calling your name," she said, looking at him with concern in her eyes, "from the fire but – "

"Sorry," he said, cutting her off, "I was just…concentrating."

She continued to look at him with worry and Remus had a feeling she wanted to say something but thought better of it as she informed him that Severus would be bringing him his wolfsbane potion momentarily and that she would be locking his office door after him instead of Dumbledore.

"He's busy with the Ministry and the nasty business of that hippogriff execution," she informed him with a grave look and a thin mouth when he enquired where the headmaster was.

Remus hadn't realized the sixth of June was also the night of the full moon when he promised Hagrid he would attend the hearing. He hoped Hagrid would understand. As he arranged the last of the essays on his desk, a sudden burst of angry voices caused him to jump and knock down the papers once more.

"It's mine!"

Get off it, you toad!"

Startled as well, Professor McGonagall hastily rushed from the room to see what the commotion was, calling to Remus that she would return momentarily. He figured it was students with frayed nerves getting out their frustrations. As he remembered, this time of the month – exam time – always saw more duels and hexes between students.

He began to pick up the rolls of parchment once more when a bit of old, blank parchment sticking out from his briefcase caught his eye, and recalling that Harry was Hagrid's friend, a thought seized him. He pulled out the parchment and tapped it. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he whispered even though he was alone. The Marauder's Map sprang to life as hundreds of tiny black dots moved around the map of the castle and the grounds beyond. Remus combed the map, searching for Harry's name and grimaced as he found it just outside the castle, traveling towards Hagrid's cabin accompanied by Hermione and Ron.

"Of course," he exclaimed aloud.

He wasn't surprised to see Harry out of bounds but he _was_ disappointed. The lecture he'd given him about repaying his parents poorly for their sacrifice and making it easy for Sirius to lay hands on him by breaking the rules and sneaking about obviously hadn't sunk in. Remus sat down and closed the office door with a flick of his wand as he watched the three dots disappear into the cabin.

He sat staring at the parchment, wand ready to wipe the map should McGonagall return, for almost half an hour when the dots suddenly reappeared. Remus watched as they moved around the back of the cabin while four dots, including Dumbledore's, moved towards the front door. He caught himself smiling despite his chagrin at how alike Harry was to his father when he realized there weren't three dots but four.

"What the…" he exclaimed but the words died away as he read the name in tiny letters by the fourth dot.

Peter Pettigrew.

_That can't be_.

He felt his stomach leap to his throat as the meaning of those two tiny words sunk in. He couldn't believe it but knew it had to be true.

_It has to be; the map never lies_.

Without a second thought, he jumped up, shoved the map into the front of his robes and ran down the corridor, down a long flight of stairs, down another corridor and out the front entrance. Once outside, he pulled out the map and searched for the names once more. He spotted a jumble of dots at the base of the Whomping Willow and a gasp escaped him as he registered another dot, Sirius Black, moving among the fray then suddenly separating and disappearing into the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack, Ron and Peter in tow.

Remus bounded down the front steps, missing the last and knocking his chest against the weathered stone. Searing pain coursed through his already aching limbs and he struggled to keep his head about him. For a moment he felt panic seize him as he struggled for breath but his need to keep Harry safe far outweighed his own discomfort and he clambered to his feet, moaning in pain as he dashed across the darkened grounds towards the Whomping Willow.

He sprinted past Hagrid's cabin, barely registering the gruesome scene in the garden but relieved that the execution party had moved on, as his mind raced to conclusions, each as improbable as the next.

_He couldn't have_.

He approached the dangerous tree at a run, jumping back as the branches began to gesticulate wildly.

_It's impossible_.

He grabbed a branch off the ground and prodded the knot like he'd done in the past so many times before. The trees limbed ceased their mad dance and he approached the hole at the roots. As he climbed in he noticed drops of blood and torn cloth snagged on the bark and it hit him.

_Oh, Merlin, this is really happening_.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

An hour later, Sirius Black sat in a dark room high above Hogwarts in the West Tower, waiting for Dementors to arrive. In one night he had gone through a myriad of emotions: had reunited with one friend, exposed another as a murderer, met his godson for the first time in twelve years, had his life nearly taken twice and been rescued from a fate worse than death only to end up back where he started.

Though he tried desperately to grasp to his former headmaster's words – "there is still hope, my boy," – he felt hope slipping through his bony fingers. The only solace was that Harry, his godson, now knew the truth.

He thought of Remus and the look on his face, that of a wrecked man as he realized Peter was the killer, not Sirius and he wondered if Dumbledore would be able to stop what was about to happen.

As he sat in the dark awaiting his fate, his mind turned to the young woman. He still didn't know her name but knew instinctively she was indeed his daughter.

He thought about what could have been and what he would say to her if he had the chance and just as he began to accept his fate, an urgent voice called out to him and he turned towards the small barred window and beheld a sight that gave him hope once more.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed a different take on that infamous night. Let me know what you think. Just click on the purple tab and tap out a few words.

**Coming Soon:** Chapter 18: The End, or is it just the beginning?

The sequel is tentatively titled _**Living Eternities**_. Look for it about the same time as the next chapter.

See Ya!


	18. Chapter 18: Freedom, Revisited

**Hi!**

I'll keep my notes brief. This is actually the next - to - last chapter. Both are smallish.

I've already begun writing the sequel, **_'Living Eternities'_**.

Hope you like it.

**Disclaimer:** There are so many ways to say it, but they all mean the same thing -- I don't own the characters, JK Rowling does.

**

* * *

Chapter 18: Freedom, Revisited **

As Sirius Black flew over the vast ocean towards a safe haven, Albus Dumbledore paid his daughter a visit and informed her of the night's events.

He relayed what Sirius had told him about being an Animagus, about Peter's betrayal and the events of October 31st, 1981, as well as the night's events with Harry Potter and his friends. Kali listened stone – faced, determined not to give away what she'd known.

Dumbledore's visit was brief and long after he left, well beyond sunrise, she sat contemplating all that he'd told her – and all that he hadn't.

In a short time, Sirius had managed to give Dumbledore all the pertinent details of his innocence and actions over the last year, but never mentioned knowing about her. Kali tried not to let it get to her, and told herself it didn't mean anything, he was fighting for his life, but a tiny part of her wasn't convinced. That nagging feeling grew as she sat alone in the cottage at the end of the lane, feeling truly isolated from the life she'd once known.

She didn't want to waste her time in Hogsmeade any more, hiding from danger and sitting on her hands. No, that wasn't for her. She was a Del Fuego, for better or worse, and she was meant to do other things.

She decided she wouldn't let others dictate her life anymore, just as she'd allowed where she came from dictate her choices.

All of a sudden, the urge to run came over her.

She promptly packed up her trunk and magicked it to the post office, where she sent it back to London, then sent word to Mrs. Hurlbutt, Dumbledore and Remus that she was leaving for good.

She was going home, though she knew it was only for a short while.

As she prepared to Disapparate, her mind wandered to Remus and she wondered just how he felt at that moment, likely curled up in bed, body aching and mind reeling. She contemplated visiting him but couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd made up her mind to go and wouldn't risk him talking her out of it once he knew her intentions.

Despite their strained friendship, she felt closer to him than anyone. He was her friend, her only friend. Perhaps that's why she felt his disappointment in her so severely, and perhaps that's why she was determined to go back to London and end things with Malfoy once and for all.

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Two weeks later, Remus, newly unemployed, awoke to a tapping beak on the window of his childhood home. An impossibly large, rather colourful bird flew in, an envelope attached to its leg. Remus fed the bird a scrap of bread and laid a dish of water on the windowsill for it then tore the envelope open, eager to hear from his friend.

_**Dear Remus,**_

_**I hope this letter finds you well. I imagine after that night, you feel badly about Peter's escape.**_

_**Well, don't!**_

_**The blame for all that has transpired over the last twelve years, scratch that, almost thirteen (blimey!), falls squarely on Peter's shoulders. We were both fooled by a man we thought was a friend and a brother and the shame lies with him, not either of us. Still, I know I can't help feeling responsible for everything sometimes so I can imagine the flogging you've given yourself.**_

_**Do me a favour. Stop being the Moony I know and quit beating yourself up. There are things I wish I could change and do over but I can't and hell if I'll let that treacherous rat ruin my life anymore.**_

_**Take my advice, Moony. Take your mind off things, get yourself laid and for Merlin's sake, stop worrying! I will try to take my own advice.**_

_**(If you're wondering, the ladies are very lovely where I am.)**_

_**Take care,**_

_**Sirius**_

Remus smiled broadly and chuckled. He hadn't realized how much he missed his mate's letters. He knew Sirius was lying about moving on and had written it to make him feel better but appreciated the gesture just the same. It was the Sirius he'd known since he was a boy, the one that surprised him with his humanity every once in a while. Then of course, he would say or do something to make Remus cringe and roll his eyes.

That was Sirius – surprising and unpredictable.

Remus' eyes lingered over the words, "_we were both fooled by a man we thought was a friend and a brother_…" and his smiled faded. Pushing the bitter feelings associated with Peter away, he read on:

_**P.S. – Please forward this letter to my daughter. I don't know her name, just her eyes. Thanks, mate.**_

Remus pulled a small, folded bit of parchment from the envelope and stared at it for a long time, rereading the last two sentences. His mind began to race, trying to figure out how Sirius knew and was curious about what was written in the letter. He was tempted to read it but stopped himself. The contents were strictly between father and daughter.

_Oh, Merlin, Sirius is a father!_

He didn't know why it suddenly hit him; he'd known it for years. But as he mulled over it he realized, as he sat alone in the quiet cottage, that when the truth about Sirius came out, it was as if he had been resurrected from the dead; no longer a ghost that haunted his dreams but his mate.

Sirius had always been his mate.

For a brief moment, Remus reveled in the feeling of having a dear friend once again. He forgot about his situation, Sirius' predicament, Peter's unknown whereabouts. He pushed away the foreboding feeling that told him things were about to get worse. For that brief moment he didn't care.

Sirius Black was his mate, the dog to his wolf, his canine companion – his brother once again.

* * *

The last chapter is already up...go on & read it!

A review would be nice (just a suggestion...)


	19. Chapter 19: The Journey Begins

**Hello Everyone!**

This is the last chapter (weeps) but if you noticed the title...

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own it.

**

* * *

Chapter 19: The Journey Begins **

Kali approached Malfoy Manor, the letter from her father tucked safely away in her jeans pocket, and rang the ostentatious bell. She hadn't anticipated walking into this house anymore, but was determined to do what she must. Lucius Malfoy answered the door, the haughty sneer on his face dying away as he laid eyes on her.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed as he pulled the door closed behind him, eyes darting over his shoulder through the gap.

"We need to talk," she answered in a grave tone.

"This is not the plac, Narcissa's home." He had a look of outrage on his pointy face.

"Well, by now your wife has realized there's someone at the door. It's only a matter of time before she comes to investigate," she said, smirking. "Shall I wait to speak to her instead?"

His cold gray eyes narrowed. "Get in here and be quick about it!" he hissed.

He peered around the crack in the door then ushered her into the first room by the foyer. Kali had been in this room, the library, only once when she stayed a few years ago. It had given her a bad feeling back then, with its ancient pureblood tomes in neat rows on the bookcases and its dark, grisly objects on full display. As she looked around, she noticed the questionable relics were gone.

"Trying to look the part of respectable man, are you?" she asked as she strolled around the room.

"What do you want?" he said forcefully, ignoring her comment.

"I need you to tell me where Celestia is hiding," she said casually.

He looked at her incredulously but with what Kali noticed was a little relief on his face. "I've no idea," he stated coldly.

She knew he was lying (he lied about everything). He'd helped Celestia escape; her grandmother had all but told her their plans just before she disappeared. She'd wanted Kali to go with her but she refused.

"Perhaps _Cissy_ knows," she stated cheekily.

His face contorted to a mask of outrage once again. "I _don't_ think you want to play _that_ game with _me_," he said in a low, menacing tone, approaching her.

"No, I don't," she said truthfully. "I just want to know where my grandmother is."

"Why do you care all of a sudden?" he asked her suspiciously.

"That's none of your business." She wasn't about to explain her motives to the likes of Malfoy, although, in truth, she really couldn't fully explain it to herself. All she knew for sure was that she needed answers and Celestia was the only one to give them.

He scoffed loudly. "I beg to differ," he drawled.

Kali closed the distance between them and looked up into his cold pale eyes. "You _will_ tell me what I want to know," she demanded in a voice barely above a whisper but with menacing force behind it.

He shoved her back. "And why's that?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

She moved away and circled him, forcing him to turn and follow her movements. "A man like you, a powerful, wealthy man," she began, "an _evil _man," she paused, "to you appearance is everything. You've survived family scandals, accusations of being a Death Eater, your wife's family's reputation," she continued, circling the room as she spoke, "but do you really think you could survive _me_?"

"What in _Merlin_ do you mean?" he demanded, though the break in his voice told her he knew exactly what she meant.

"I could wreck you, Lucius," she said, "and you know it. Helping Celestia, having an affair with my mother – and me, I was just an innocent little girl – "

"You were seventeen!" he shouted, "hardly a child and never an innocent – "

"Oh but I was," she interrupted with a devious smile. "I was just a young girl of fifteen, no – _twelve_," she laughed, "That's even better."

"Do you honestly think anyone would believe your lies?" he asked, his pointy face looking suddenly older as he struggled to control his anger.

"Well that's the beauty of it, there's just enough truth to make it believable."

He glowered but seemed rooted to the spot; still stuck on incredulous, he couldn't think clearly. Kali knew all he needed was a little push.

"It's your choice," she stated, "_respectable_," she said, turning out one hand, "or _reviled_," she finished, turning out the other.

As he pierced through her with menacing eyes, the door to the library opened, and Narcissa stood at the threshold.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked haughtily, matching her husband's previous stance.

"Of course not, dear," Lucius said shiftily, "Miss Del Fuego just dropped in –"

"To say goodbye," she interrupted, "and to get the address of a mutual friend." She turned to Lucius, feigning a smile. "If you'll just write it down, I can get out of your way."

He hesitated for a moment as his wife's eyes scrutinized him, then walked to the writing desk and extracted a slip of parchment from the drawer. As Lucius scribbled briefly and walked around to hand her the slip of paper, Kali engaged Narcissa in mindless conversation.

"There you are," he said, thrusting the bit of parchment into her hand a little too forcefully.

"Appreciated," she said as she slid it into her pocket. She turned to Narcissa and smiled. "Well, I must be off," she said cheerily.

Lucius walked her to the front door as Narcissa watched from the foyer suspiciously. "You have nerve," he said viciously but low enough so only she could hear him.

"Thanks," she answered, smirking once more. She stepped out onto the stone steps and turned to face him. Standing in the doorway with an ugly look on his face, it struck her just how vile he really was.

"Don't think I'll forget this," he hissed.

"Oh, I don't."

"You _will_ need me one day," he continued, " but when you come back to me, you'll have to crawl." With those words, he took a step back into the house and slammed the door shut.

Kali stood at the door, a feeling of relief sweeping over her. She hadn't gotten the last word, she hadn't told him all she'd wanted to say, but still, she felt a weight lift from her. She turned around and walked away, deciding to enjoy the warm, sunny day.

As she strolled down the street, thinking over all the choices that lay before her -- the ones she still had to make, the ones she didn't know about yet -- she felt calm and she knew -- she still had a chance.

One day, she, too, could finally be free.

* * *

I had to leave this fic with Kali, who, despite toning down somewhere in the middle, is still the manipulative girl she's always been. Let see if she changes when Voldie comes back...(even I don't know the answer to that one!)

I hope you all enjoyed my first fanfic -- ever. Please let me know.

The Sequel -- which I hope isn't hit by the sophomore curse (did I spell that right?) -- is on its way.

**Coming Soon** - _**'Living Eternities'**_ - the sequel to this fic, which picks up March of '95, set near the end of GoF.

Thanks for all your feedback! Hope you stick with the story...Bye!


End file.
